


A Veritable Storm

by Atypewritertest



Series: Tattered Heavens [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Aizen is Super Smart, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Haruto is smart, Mostly Gen, Original Character-centric, The Seireitei is a complicated place, a dash of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25111225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atypewritertest/pseuds/Atypewritertest
Summary: In one world, the 78th district of the Rukongai, Inuzuri, deemed two individuals worthy of escaping its poisoned touch. In another, there were three. Haruto Hayakawa was never meant to survive: until, of course, he did.
Relationships: Abarai Renji & Kuchiki Rukia, Hisagi Shuuhei & Abarai Renji, Hisagi Shuuhei & Kuchiki Rukia, Komamura Saijin & OC, Kuchiki Byakuya & Kuchiki Rukia, OC & Abarai Renji, OC & Gotei 13, OC & Kuchiki Rukia
Series: Tattered Heavens [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822879
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> First bleach fanfic that I've tried my hand at, but I'm determined to make an actually tolerable OC that doesn't take the shine away from the cast as well. Of course, I'm always open to any constructive criticism from anyone who reads this. I have an actual goddamn plan for this story so it's going to be significantly long and detailed.
> 
> Aren't enough good Bleach fanfics for a world that has so much potential, and I'm going to try my hand at it; go easy on me my dudes
> 
> (any corrections in my translations or use of Japanese are welcome and are required honestly.)

晴空

～ Haruto ～

**meaning:**

"晴" is clear. "空" is sky.

～Hayakawa～

**meaning:**

"Fast River"

* * *

Rukia remained in a bewildered state of mounting rage. It was mild, then transformed into a deep, throbbing, pulsing echo that permeated through her entire soul. Mingling with the evenly matched throbs of affection, and the sudden urge to wail, it created a monstrous shit-show of emotions that led her to react- violently.

The boy in front of her had barely a second to widen his eyes before he was sent tumbling to the ground by a small, pale white fist.

"Ow," he groaned, massaging his jaw sullenly, before staring pointedly at the violet orbs that stared at him accusingly. "You know that _hurts,_ right Rukia? I get that you're our leader and all but _goddamn,_ some restraint would be nice."

Her small hand tightened once again, and he knew immediately he'd done the wrong thing when her eyes filled with tears and her mouth contorted into a suppressed frown. She stomped toward him, and the crimson haired boy beside her moved back instinctively.

(He scrambled backward as well, but that was beside the point).

"Rukia, _listen!_ I- "He was cut off- hoisted from the ground by the collar of the dirty brown rags he wore, and his nose nearly touched hers; a tear brushed across her face.

Damn it.

"NO! You listen!" She nearly shrieked, rattling him around aggressively. "You do not _get_ to just-just _run around_ an' risk your _life_ without telling us you fool! We're the only ones left, Haruto! If you go then it'll just be me and Renji, and I- "

"Hey! What's wrong with me?!"

She glanced to the side, glaring at the boy to her side. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"That isn't the point Renji, you know that!"

As she was distracted, the boy in front of her attempted, very carefully, to loosen her fingers just enough to-

The pain rattling his jaw returned with a vengeance as she whacked him again.

He groaned, and looked up blearily again, and saw that she was really crying now, tears running across her small face, and her violet eyes blurry and red.

Sighing, he gestured toward Renji, and the boy approached with a small grimace, encircling the girl with them in a hug.

Haruto did the same.

"I'm sorry, Rukia. I won't do it again. But we _need_ food, you know that! We'll die if we don't get any."

"I-I _know,_ idiot!" She looked up, the centre of their little huddle, and he gently brought the three of them to the ground, against the brick walls of the alley they were currently in.

The loaf of bread in his pocket burned.

"I know that! But- "She looked at the two of them again, and her frown returned; she brought her wrists to her face to wipe away the tears from her face.

"The two of you are _family,_ Haruto. I don't want to lose my family."

Haruto's grip on the two of them tightened. He looked to the ground, and away, ears burning in shame.

"I'm sorry."

They fell into a short, unspoken silence; their huddle safe and warm. It seemed as if an eternity passed, but the girl's arms tightened around the two of them.

_It's okay._

His heart unclenched, and he sighed into the night, enjoying the quiet.

A raspy voice broke through the silence after what seemed like hours and the two looked at the crimson haired boy who spoke.

"Like Rukia said- we'll become Shinigami! We'll be safe then! No one would _dare_ mess with us, and we'd get all the food we want- with _actual money!"_

Haruto snorted and rubbed the boy's head affectionately, ignoring his scowl and waving hands. Rukia smiled at the sight.

"We'll follow our fearless leader then!" He said brightly, gesturing at the little girl between them.

"No old bastards chasing us and threatening to cut our throats would be a _nice_ change, eh?" Renji nudged at the obsidian haired girl beside him.

She scowled, trying and failing to suppress the short giggle that escaped her lips at his antics.

"As long as _you_ don't go off alone again, idiot!" She glared at Haruto, and he glanced away, chuckling embarrassedly before raising his own, small, grubby hand, stained by mud and dirt, and saluting.

"Yes, Captain Rukia!"

The two children beside him burst into laughter, and he chuckled, brown eyes dancing in happiness.

His hand snaked into his pocket, and he brought out the bread he stole from the drunk bastard across the street.

"Well, I already had my dinner! Leftover's for the two of you, sorry!"

They ignored him, and pounced at the bread, large enough to fill two young stomachs.

His stomach clenched in hunger, but he ignored it, watching his little family tear into the bread with ravenous delight.

Haruto wouldn't be eating tonight, but he grinned all the same.

As long as they were okay, did it really matter?

* * *

Renji stared at his two friends as they bled on the ground in front of him.

_Why?_

It was an innocent adventure; a spirit of rebellious confidence that made them stray past the dotted lines. Because if they were to be Shinigami the _had_ to be able to take risks- it was just the way it _was._ And they were _strong:_ filled to the brim with a growing energy that helped them put feet into the mouths of old rotten thieves and thugs in a place where there wasn't enough good to help a single individual.

So _**why?**_

His eyes turned upward, and he stared at the masked beast that stared at him, screeching breaths resembling a cackle and he came to the terrifying conclusion that this thing _was laughing,_ its demented, while toothed grin and bulging torso and clawed arms and spiked tailbone and the _crack!_ Of its jaw as it turned to regard him.

It opened its mouth and _screeched_ its amusement, long tongue whipping out to run itself across those wide, jutting, smiling teeth and licking lips that weren't there.

Renji's bat dropped limply to his side, and he couldn't _move_ because even if they had _Reiryoku_ or _Reiatsu_ or whatever the hell it was called, and they could help other kids by beating the shit outta shitty adults they couldn't- _they couldn't!_ Win against this- this _abomination._

And they were so close, as well.

They were so close to the safer districts.

They were so close to getting to the academy.

They would be strong, then. If they had only made it to that goddamn district-

" _Why," he croaked, voice breaking and cracking and tears spilling out of his eyelids_ _and the hollow had laughed, a horrible, echoing sound that echoed through his eardrums and he whimpered softly-_

He was broken out of his reverie by a croaking voice; he turned and stared at the messy black haired, tanned boy in front of him as he struggled to his knees and crawled toward his own frozen from, blood leaking from his mouth and torso

The hollow did not move. It simply watched, and he could've sworn he saw a wholly _demented_ amusement in its wide, unnaturally black and yellow eyes.

It was toying with them, and his blood _boiled but he was never able to_ _ **do**_ _anything about it and he failed and Haruto-_

A hand grasped at his shivering arms, and he saw glazed, hardened brown speaking to him.

The shaking, bloody form pointed at the unscathed, unconscious body of the girl on his other side.

"She- she's strong. G-get her and yourself out of here."

Behind him, the hulking creature began to move toward them- slowly, leisurely.

 _It was_ _**fucking toying with them and he couldn't do anything fuck-** _

" _Renji!"_

He turned to face his brother and watched him stand to his feet, weight pulling against his form as he did so. He picked up the bat that Renji had dropped in his fright. "Renji- she's light, an-and easy to carry. I'm not. Y-You're uninjured so you can run fast and get away quick."

Renji stared at Haruto incredulously, forgetting his terror for a brief moment.

"What-?! I ain't leavin' you here Haruto! You're gettin' outta here with us and I ain't takin' 'no' for an-!"

"RENJI!"

The scream was loud and broken and hoarse and _strong_ and had no more stuttering behind it and even the hollow that looked at them with a growing impatience and fading humour paused, considering its prey curiously.

Blue wisps of energy flickered weakly against stained, cheap wood.

"You want to be a _fucking Shinigami?!"_

And Renji flinched back because Haruto never ever swore or shouted, no matter _what,_ and-

"There's a difference between idiocy and bravery, Renji." The voice was quiet now, cracked and soft and sad, and Renji's heart trembled.

A wavering hand pointed at the girl beside them.

"Pick her up."

The hollow watched, and its tongue flickered out.

And Renji obeyed, quickly lifting the unconscious girl into his arms, and hoisting her onto his back.

"Haruto please don't do this-!"

"This is the logical move, Renji and you _know it._ Hell, that thing knows it too." A muted chuckle broke out of his friend's throat, and the hollow opposite rumbled in tandem, grinding the ground beneath its feet and licking its lips at the energy that leaked of the bloodied boy in front of it, eyeing it with the gaze of a starving predator.

"Keep each other safe, Renji. The two of you are going to be great one day, I can feel it in my goddamn bones."

And he looked back one last time as Renji stood behind him, and he watched Haruto look fondly at him and the girl in his arms.

"She's going to be a piece of work down the line- you're gonna have to keep up with her somehow- I don't envy you."

"Haruto- "

"Be strong, Renji. Be brave. Don't be a dumbass. Or do, it's kinda endearing." His family chuckled again, and then straightened his back once, breathing out in a heavy sigh.

"Now."

Renji turned and ran, ignoring the shriek of the hollow as it cackled its laughter, and the heavy thumps it took toward his friend.

God, he was scum. But the weight in his arms spurred him onward and further and further away from the shrieks and wails of the monstrosity he had abandoned his brother with; to a bittersweet future forever marred by the weight _of his fucking sins._

_I'm sorry Haruto._

* * *

And then he woke, panting and clutching the sheets in his room; a cold sweat across his forehead as he stared out through the small windows of the Shinigami Academy; the light of the full moon casting a faint glow across his body, and he put a hand to his face and rubbed at tired eyes.

He'd lost count of the fucking years, but he'd never forget the cold pulsing of his heart.

Renji Abarai cursed the day he was born.

But he lived anyway.

* * *

Haruto stared at the beast that walked toward him slowly.

He flared that ball of energy in his chest even brighter, and the hollow let out a rumble and groan, licking its lips and cracking its neck and lumbering its way toward him, glowing gold pupils in a mass of inky black and white and a grin stretched wide across a head too small for its hulking, bulging body.

Haruto whimpered under his breath, white hands gripping his makeshift weapon hard enough to creak the wood.

He had no training, and he possessed a wooden bat as a weapon. Hell, both Rukia and Renji had a better chance of delaying this thing for longer than he could.

But he was too selfish to lose them in his stead.

And so, Haruto cracked the blunt edge of the bat into ground and splintered it, breaking off the edge and holding it like a makeshift spear. He eyed the monster pacing toward him and he strained his eyes, watching, watching watching-

_There._

Pushing that energy into his arms and legs he _moved._

The hollow was dumb, which is probably why he lasted longer than two seconds. As its claws rushed downward to him, he feinted, adrenaline pumping and pushing and flaring and his heart thrumming in his ears as he rolled through its legs and turned, slamming the remains of the bat into a chink in white bone and _pushed,_ dark brackish liquid spurting from the wound and onto his face and lips, and it tasted _vile-like bile and hot burning poison._ Choking and spluttering he stumbled, swallowing heavily.

The hollow _roared,_ and he continued to run back, _away from them away away away away-_

It turned, in almost slow motion, its hulking size preventing quick movement.

It was still barely fast enough.

He felt blinding pain in his ribs and a brief weightlessness before he kicked up dirt and mud and dust as he rolled onto the ground with a groan and a whimper.

Its clawed, mutated hand had whipped around and caught him and god, _this was it he was going to die, and his ribs hurt, but souls were kinda strong and nothing was broken-_

_**He was going to die.** _

The hollow cackled once, then growled and shrieked all at the same time, and it limped toward him sedately. For all the effort he had put in, he'd barely even _phased it._ And it moved, the ground shuddering under each heavy footstep, dust obscuring his vision; he coughed, and his ears rang and he turned his chest flared in agony.

Whimpering, he attempted to inch his way forward, fingers digging into mud and dirt and he pulled and _please, it hurt so_ _ **much.**_

_He didn't want to die._

And then it grasped his torso in a crushing grip, and he gurgled and spat blood as its mangled claws held him firm, and he heard its echoing, haunting laughter rumble behind him slowly, tauntingly.

He was going to _diediediediediedie_

And it raised him to its mouth, and he saw a long, snake-like tongue whip around in impatient hunger and darkness and his eyes closed and _goddamn it._

 _He didn't_ _**want** _ _to die._

"Stay safe- "

And suddenly the grip loosened, and he was falling, twenty feet in the air, and he watched, upside down, as white _split_ and an echoing shrieked pierced his ears and soul and his eyes were open again-?

Black cloth blocked his vision, and rough hands grabbed him, and he was floating for a brief second, before he was placed onto the ground, facing the back of a black covered torso, glinting steel, and a sharp-toothed grin that made him widen his eyes.

"And go home, kid."

Then it was gone.

And then it was next to the howling beast as it swiped its only remaining clawed arm, slowly. Sluggishly.

It never made contact, and the screaming halted.

Then one final, ear-shattering shriek echoed through the still night, and that demonic mask was cleaved into two, and the monstrosity gave way to blood and gore. With little warning. With negligible effort from that- from _one person-_ it was gone. Like it was never _there._

God, that was so cool.

God, he was so weak.

But he was broken from his awe by a rhythmic _tap-tap_ on the ground that distracted him, and he watched the feet of the individual who saved his life approach, slowly.

It crouched, and he stared into the eyes of a young woman with long hair tied into a bun behind her head.

Her amber eyes gazed at him and muttered under her breath.

A soft glow, and he felt his body _fix._ There were no other words for it. It stopped suddenly though, and a twinge of pain coursed through his limbs.

"Shit," he heard her curse, before she got up.

"I ain't that great at Kido. Think you can move?"

He nodded once, shakily.

"Good," she reached forward and ruffled his grimy hair.

"Get yourself home, I've got patrol to attend to."

And then she was gone, and he blinked once, slowly.

That was abrupt, sudden, mildly rude- but then again, which Shinigami would have time for a lowly lost soul like himself?

He never even got to say thank you. Sighing, his shoulders slumped, and he twisted his body with a groan, leaning against a rock to support his weight evenly.

" _Fuck."_

He'd lied, it seemed. His body would not move.

Staring into the dark, he lay in position for what felt like hours before he amassed enough energy to move his semi-broken frame.

His family was gone. Long gone. He would have to get to the academy himself. Through a series of districts so complicated and harsh that getting lost was far too easy.

He winced as he got to his feet, legs burning and ribs sensitive and chest tight. Breathing in slowly and deeply, he closed his eyes, exhaling once and repeating the exercise again, before opening his eyelids to face what he was certain would be a goddamn _pain in the ass_.

He wasn't completely healed, and he could still feel the bruises and rough open wounds that littered his skin. His ribs, however, were fixed.

Partly.

Breathing in once and sighing, Haruto stumbled forward.

* * *

Through the roads and ditches of the Rukongai, a young man moved with a desperate hope. He was too weak to steal. The Rukongai was too harsh a place for free charity. He ate meagrely, drank even less.

Fate never wanted him to make it.

So, he didn't.

For all his determination, Haruto Hayakawa collapsed on the fringes and in the dark alleys of the 14th district of the Rukongai, slowly succumbing to shoddily half-healed wounds, starvation, and dehydration.

His ball of spiritual energy pulsed one last time in weak defiance,

" _P-protect them; please, protect t-them—"_

And in one time and place, his vision would fade to black and he would know no more pain.

Here and now, Fate raised its hand and said softly,

_**NO.** _

* * *

Captain Saijin Komamura breathed in deeply, snout twitching in the cool night breeze, his burnt orange fur swaying pleasantly with the soft wind. The distinct lack of a helmet would send any individual who spotted him into a surprised flinch.

It was lucky that no one could see him now.

The soft tap of his _waraji_ against the tiled roofs of the _Seireitei_ were near non-existent, and the giant man relished in a rumbling sense of freedom that he otherwise could not allow himself to feel. His features were monstrous, yet he felt a distinctive thrill when he raced across rooftops and blinked at the night moon freely, the constrictions of a helmet gone and replaced by the dangerously addictive feel of open fields and nature.

If anyone were to see him now, they would swiftly be _taught_ to look the other way. His emotions lay in an unnerving paradox of pride and shame, and even Tosen could not see into the depths of his soul quite so clearly.

His thoughts consumed him on this particular evening, and he rushed through the wind and trees, moving quicker and quicker, emulating the pacing of his thoughts; he never quite went deep into the Rukongai; but tonight, was rare. It was cool and it was pleasant, the sounds and smells of a mix of trees and lingering spirit feeding a crescendo of flavours that he could nearly taste and for all his vaulted dignity and rigidity and honour, it made his blood _howl_ in delight.

And he could not, for the life of him, deny himself this short, fleeting pleasure before he returned to his rooms at the barracks and his iron restraint once again.

Whipping past the first district and the shops and hubs of relaxation that his subordinates indulged in, he moved even deeper, nose twitching at the assault of contrasting scents and the smells of despair and prosperity and dirt and filth and trees and _nature_ , before coming to a halt, breaths coming in heavily and bright eyes glowing softly. Adjusting his Captain's _Haori,_ he rumbled out a growled sigh and knelt on the edge of an unassuming building, analysing the mismatch of rooftops and trees that scattered what he considered a convoluted mix of beauty and disparity.

He knew what lay beyond the cocoon of the first thirteen districts, and it was not a pleasant truth to swallow. _But_ and he sighed again, _change was not something Soul Society has ever been comfortable with._

Trust the bureaucracy to mitigate any threats to their control. Central 46 were ruthless in their limitations, and their fear of the Gotei 13 only made them even more paranoid.

Nobody enjoyed having their power threatened. Never mind that it boiled his blood and his honour when this was blatantly discussed in the halls of the _sou-taichou;_ and while the Captain Commander was not one for politics, he did what he had to do to keep the peace, fragile as it was, in tenuous balance.

And Komamura would follow Yamamoto to the ends of the world, as his loyalty dictated.

He enjoyed the peace while he could and breathed in the wind and relished the twitch of his whiskers before finally standing to his feet and stretching languidly whilst his solitude allowed him to do so.

His ear twitched.

A soft, faint _pulse_ swept through him and echoed against his reiatsu. It was barely noticeable, a blip that most Shinigami would barely even register. But he was no ordinary Shinigami, and his finely tuned senses picked it up yet again.

An even weaker, more desperate echo of spiritual energy, and he could _feel_ the desperation.

A flicker, and the rooftops were devoid of life once again.

The moon shone brighter.

* * *

The signals took him deeper into the Rukongai, and soon he'd passed the tenth, eleventh, twelfth- barely computing the ever slow deterioration of the environment and streets around him, before skidding to a halt on a crumbling mess of a building, taking note of the dilapidated, broken structure surrounding him. The stench of garbage and sewage growing steadily worse, and _gods forbid what the outer districts faced._

_Past the 50th district, as reported by the twelfth. A problem that needs solving._

But his senses were fine, near animalistic, and he chalked his reaction to an amplification of the disrepair he was faced by.

But more importantly…

_There._

It was faint, barely flickering but holding surprisingly strong in its conviction, and if he were a betting man,

_The potential is there._

But first, he had to hurry.

It didn't take long; two flickers and he looked downward into the back alleys of the 14th district of the Southern Rukongai, when he smelt blood and leaking energy and as his eyes narrowed in-

 _Bloodied._ Twitch of the nose and a quick, practiced scan.

_Half healed, starved. Reparable; but he'll need assistance quickly._

And it was a boy; a teenaged soul, by the look of it. His face was down, right arm outstretched and dirty, matted black hair splayed around him.

_Fixing appearances can come later; let us see what this boy has to say._

He paused, then continued, reaching down to turn the child over.

_If he can still say anything, that is._

Glazed brown eyes stared up at him, and he blinked once.

"- _them"_

_What?_

" _-tect th-them,"_

A breath, then:

" _P-protect them, protect them, pr-tect them, please, please, I-!"_

A soft cough, and those eyes stared at him frantically, his arm grasped out to reach nothing. Komamura kneeled and grasped his dirty chin, examining him in the eyes. A thrill shot through his spine and he shuddered.

The young man did not stop; it was a prayer, a _driven need_ and glazed devoted mutter that slipped through his mouth. Over, and over, and over, and over again, as blood dribbled from his broken lips and his battered body attempted to shift unsuccessfully.

In his eyes was a frantic, desperate devotion that made Komamura's soul _sing_ with an unspoken respect.

 _Never before- his energy is nothing special- but those_ _**eyes.** _

Komamura blinked and growled out softly.

_Those eyes._

Those eyes were different. The power was wholly above average; he could tell that from a glance.

 _Nothing too special… but those_ _**eyes.** _

Those eyes were different.

_Not the Academy, no. That would be a waste._

The eyes were special.

In those eyes, he saw himself _._

The wind blew faster, a whistling tune that flicked his ears gently.

Komamura made his choice.

_He will come with me._

He stared at the body below him and bowed his head.

_We will find our path together._

"What is your name, young one?"

He received a blank stare, and a broken, rough exhale.

The captain's eyes narrowed, and he growled, softly, once.

He was not the best with words.

"What is your name?!"

No response; and it did not take an expert to tell he was delirious and not all together quite there.

Komamura growled in frustration and sighed, taking a gauntleted hand to his canine ears and scratching softly.

"Who did this to you, young one?"

Silence.

Then, _"P-protect- them, I- "_

Komamura shook his shaggy head in muted disbelief. _This boy._

_Very well. If that is what it takes, then so be it._

For a moment there was silence, broken only by a wheezed exhale.

"You want to protect?" Komamura asked, and his snout twitched.

Hazel brown focused on him with a sudden intensity so strong that he nearly flinched back, and the captain felt a slow, sharp toothed grin spread across his features at the sudden gall in the child's expression.

"Tell me your name," He commanded, "and I will help you protect those you wish to."

The child hesitated, then cocked his head slightly and stared through him. Through his soul, taking in his furred lupine features with that newfound clarity that brought a chill through the seventh divisions spine.

_He sees much._

He stared, and Komamura stared right back.

"My name- "

Hesitation. The large, hulking figure did not break eye contact.

"My name is Haruto."

His head slumped forward and his eyelids slid shut, and he was unconscious. Komamura sighed in mild satisfaction, looking upward briefly.

The sky _was_ suspiciously clear, and stars twinkled in rapid succession.

"Interesting."

Leaning downward, he draped the half-dead boy across his shoulders and flickered away.

* * *

The wind wheezed a rough throated chuckle and picked up speed steadily as the night moved on.

In the far distance, clouds began to gather.

Thunder rumbled in the night sky.


	2. An Establishment of Paths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exposition I think?

Age was a relative thing in the afterlife, Haruto mused as he turned another page and pushed his glasses higher on his face. The book in his hand, a collection of manuscripts, was written by an anonymous Shinigami- and was titled, he recalled with quiet amusement, _The Arrogance of the Old Soul: A commentary on the political history of the Seireitei._

Granted, it wasn't very well received by the authorities of the Seireitei, but Aizen- _taichou_ had an extensive collection, and he'd generously lent Haruto a few interesting titles to browse through in his spare time. He was a rather nice man, and Haruto was glad for his casual interaction with a subordinate such as himself.

' _Most of the seventh don't have time to indulge in my little eccentricities.'_

He snorted. They were a bunch of well-intentioned, rigid and honour-driven lovely meatheads; but sometimes a little deviation from the norm never hurt anybody.

Snapping the heavy book shut with a thump, Haruto's eyes were once again drawn to its inventive title.

' _A good read,'_ the (relatively) young man thought, stretching and opening his mouth in an exaggerated yawn, before lazily reaching across his table to reattach his bone-white gauntlets to his arms, fingers wiggling through its fingerless greaves and securing it tightly around his skin-

' _The old coots at Central 46 have never taken well to us Military vagabonds.'_

He grunted and got to his feet, straightening his _Shihakusho_ and brushing off the biscuit crumbs scattered across its black cloth; straightening the white cotton strap around his waist, then moving to look at himself in the mirror as he placed his glasses into his robes.

' _Tetsuzaemon is going to have a field day with me.'_

Granted, Haruto had never been the most professional looking Shinigami out there; but he did like to think he looked presentable on most days.

Today, however was not one of those days.

His unusually messy black hair was even worse; a rat's nest. Gingerly, he swept it to the left in a meagre attempt to tame it, smoothing out the unruly, shortish locks and evening them out before sighing and giving up, fingers moving to rub at his half-lidded, lazy eyes in frustration.

Letting out a short grunt, he straightened his robes once again and fiddled with the bone gauntlets, their stark white contrasting mildly against his tanned-brown skin. Adjusting them so they met with the hems of his robe took negligible effort, and he stopped soon enough.

He looked like the visage of a noble-born, what with his high cheekbones and full cheeks-

' _A noble who spent all his money trying to win at cards and is now swimming in debt,'_ he thought dryly.

Puffing out his cheeks and staring at himself once again, then bent his head in hopeless resignation.

"It'll have to do," he muttered and turned to the corner next to his mattress, where his sword lay propped up by his mattress.

At least he didn't have to live with a face like that fat bastard Ōmaeda.

" _Plump,"_ he scoffed, "the arrogant, self-entitled fool."

He turned his attention to his prized possession, then.

The straight-edged chokutō lay upon his bedding in a simple black sheath, its hilt wrapped in grey and black cloth; he attached it to his waist and immediately straightened slightly from his slump and cracked his neck, and stretched with a breathy exhale.

Haruto turned toward the exit, the edging commotion of training beginning yet again; the call of sword forms and _swish_ of Zanpakutou cutting through the wind, and he walked ahead; gait turning brisk, the table he left behind scattered with books and half-written papers.

* * *

Sweeping across the dirt courtyard, Haruto spied the large, hulking figure at the head of the assembled troops that filled the space. Beside him, diminutive in comparison, stood a moustachioed individual with a set of sunglasses perched on his nose.

Of course, the man stood at an otherwise respectable height of _nearly_ six feet, but Haruto still smiled smugly to himself.

He edged Tetsuzaemon by an inch now, standing at an even six feet (though the Fukutaichou was broader then him.)

He'd never let the man live it down-especially after all the teasing he'd had to endure when he was younger. Still he approached at a brisk place, features carefully blank and even, between the rigidly stood troops of the seventh division-most of whom looked at him with short nods of acknowledgment.

He returned them with an equally curt nod in reply;

' _They really are a good bunch; if not a little stuck-up,'_

Stopping at the base of the stairs that his captain stood upon, he knelt quickly.

"Third seat, Haruto Hayakawa reporting for duty, Komamura-Taichou."

He stood then, straight backed and hands on the small of his back, and faced upward to look at the featureless, daunting visage of his captain.

The hulking figure nodded once slowly and curtly.

"At ease, Hayakawa."

Haruto breathed out relaxing and smiled shortly.

"Yes, sir."

He took his position next to Tetsuzaemon, ignoring his suddenly intense gaze; then straightened and looked ahead at the troops assembled before him as the fourth, fifth, and sixth seats approached after to stand at his side.

The rest of the seated officers stood at attention; separating from the unseated and moving to the side as Komamura stepped down from his raised position and turned to face the apprehensive looking Shinigami stood to his immediate right.

"Welcome to the seventh division, graduates of the academy." The Captain's voice was heavy with tinged seriousness and a bone-numbing authority that rumbled through the courtyard, strong and rough. A hushed silence cut through the soft murmurs that had preceded his words. The wind rustled in the breeze, softly.

Haruto's shoulders tightened uncomfortably.

"You stand here today as green recruits, your blades eager for the taste of of battle and the glory of victory! You stand, proud in your uniform, this symbol of your drive and responsibility to the Shinigami cause- "Komamura's voice raised, only slightly, yet backs were rigid and stock-still, eyes sharpened.

Haruto felt the man beside him bubble with shivering intensity.

' _He's going to start one of those rants again, isn't he? He can never just sit quiet when the Captain is saying something inspiring.'_

Drowning out the speech momentarily, Haruto allowed his gaze to drink in the view of the edges of the seventh division: the large framed gates and white walls obscuring the dirt walkways outside. The trees within the courtyard rustled softly in the breeze, and Haruto sighed as he glanced back at the recruits for a second.

There was no bright crimson, there was no violet, and he felt his heart throb painfully.

He'd searched through the records for years, never catching even the shortest whiff of whether his friends ( _his family),_ had made it to the Academy- to their sole purpose and in the end, their _only_ goal. Their salvation.

He'd nearly given up.

_-The unassuming, brown haired man to his right, Hinata, blinked downward, then faced the captain once again-_

So when he had finally- _finally_ caught a whiff of their continued existence, he had been too ashamed to show them his face. Because to him they had been _dead,_ and it was because it of _him._ Because of him. Because he wasn't strong enough.

_Weak._

His pride was a strange thing, fickle and fleeting and appearing at the most inopportune times and he couldn't look at their _faces_ because he had been so goddamn _weak_.

And he was still weak, even after all the training the Captain had wasted on him- because it didn't _matter_ how sharp he made his sword.

Renji's terrified, pale face haunted his dreams.

Rukia's little, small unconscious form bought hot bile to his throat.

Haruto Hayakawa had never had much family to call his own, and he'd very much failed to keep the people he did safe.

_-A bloodied woman's trembling hand swam in front of his eyes-_

He wiped it away with a grimace.

' _I couldn't even protect my own squad, and heavens forbid- '_

"HARUTOOOO! IT'S TIME FOR US TO FACE THE GLORIOUS MORNING SUN AND CROSS BLADES AGAIN!"

He blinked, shaking his morbid thoughts off with a short sigh and broke into a short chuckle when he noticed Tetsuzaemon screech at him, fist pointing skyward and back arched unnaturally.

Behind the man the new recruits blinked, their dazed glances broken before they were ushered away by a group of sheepish seated officers, shoulders slumped in varying stages of resigned amusement.

It seems he'd missed the end of the captain's speech; a shame- it never failed to make his blood pump a little faster.

' _Speaking of- '_

Haruto tilted his head upward to watch the looming form of Komamura approach the overenthusiastic man's back. Smiling, he glanced back at Tetsuzaemon amusedly and raised his hand.

"Ah, Tetsu-fukutaichou, behind- "

"DON'T CALL ME THAT, SHRIMP! LOOK AT THAT RUMPLED UNIFORM! YOU AIN'T- "

A growled cough echoed behind the vice-captain and he froze, glancing back at the helmeted figure behind him.

"Tetsuzaemon- "

Iba paled, and the Captain never finished his sentence- the man knelt to the ground, fists thumping beside his head in an absolutely _spectacular_ showing of subservience.

"CAP'N! THIS UNWORTHY ONE APOLOGISES FOR HIS LACK OF DIGNITY- "

"Stop shouting, Fukutaichou."

A pause.

"Ah, yes Cap'n. Y'see I was just- "

Haruto let loose a small chuckle as Komamura sighed, ignoring the glare that was shot back at him by his vice-captain.

"It is alright. Come, the two of you: I have dispersed the recruits with Hinata. Tetsuzaemon, we are due an appointment with the eighth division today. Tōsen wished to meet me; some concerns over the patrol formations we had established."

Haruto blinked in surprise, staring at the now empty courtyard- it seemed as if he'd missed quite a bit, then.

"Cap'n, y'see, it's just that Haruto and I have yet ta cross blades this morning- and without it the day is never complete! It's a tradition, a-!"

"Ah, sorry to interrupt, Tetsu-fukutaichou," Haruto cleared his throat, ignoring the growl the man shot at him. He was in no state to deal with Tetsuzaemon's own brand of eccentricity today, no matter how much he respected the man.

"Captain, apologies- but is it not my responsibility to oversee the organisation of the greenies?"

A soft chuckle emanated from within the confines of the helmet now that the need for formality had been put aside, and the captain addressed his pupil in his own dignified semblance of informality.

"Yes, it is. Unfortunately, it has come to my attention that despite our emphasis on _duty_ and _sacrifice_ \- "he stressed the two words, and two officers seated across the Captain's quarters winced and scrambled to their feet, leaving to their assigned positions and duties,

"I have _yet_ to receive the individual evaluation spreadsheets of the new recruits- "

The vice-captain at Komamura's side chuckled sheepishly.

"And I therefore require you to pick them up for me, Haruto."

He'd finished as fondly as he could; the use of personal pronouns indicated enough.

Haruto winced.

"Ah, will do Captain- just,"

He hesitated, but the broad frame of his superior remained still, and he took it as an invitation to continue.

"Could this not be delegated to someone- with a _little_ less to do? I still have to go through and sort out the new weekday curfew directives and- "

"Oi! The Cap'n's orders are absolute- "

Haruto raised his voice slightly to interrupt his superior's tirade before it could start. He'd pay for that later, but annoying Tetsuzaemon was far too much _fun._

"Ah, as I was saying Captain,"

Tetsuzaemon _fumed_ ,

"I also have to assign the barracks for the newcomers- you did assign this across the division last week, and I have yet to round the stragglers off the list."

Komamura glanced at the beet red face of his immediate subordinate glaring at the softly smiling, serene face of his third seat and huffed in amusement.

"I'm sure the Fukutaichou will cover for you, Hayakawa."

Iba's face paled.

"b-But-!"

Haruto's smile turned to an ever-widening cheshire grin.

Komamura cleared his throat to cover his building mirth.

"I'll need the reports by this evening, so get to it- you have a patrol to lead- The extended guard _is_ tonight, is it not?"

Then the helmeted figure turned away from Haruto's gaze in what he identified to be dismissal, instead focusing on the vice-captain.

"Now, Tetsuzaemon- let us leave, you have a busy schedule awaiting you on our return."

And with that he whipped around, haori twirling in the breeze, and made his way toward the gates.

Iba sighed despondently, shaking his head and slapping his cheeks.

'Of-of course Cap'n! Oi, brat!"

Inscribing the Captain's words to his memory, Haruto turned his gaze to a pair of glinting sunglasses.

"When I get back, we'll be sparrin'! Ya still got a lot ta learn! Shiba already tol' me to put ya through yer paces before he gets 'is hands on you again!"

Iba watched the dark-haired man's eyes harden as he nodded. Snorting in satisfaction he turned to follow his captain, fixing his lieutenant's badge across his shoulder.

Haruto's eyes blinked once, and he shook his head like a dog. Seriousness was all well and good, but he simply _could not_ let Tetsuzaemon's ego inflate any more than it already had.

Clearing his throat and amassing his ever roiling, rumbling reiatsu to his feet, he called out chirpily,

"Have fun with _all_ that paperwork Tetsu- _fukutaichou~_ "

The vice-captain turned around to find a blur of black, and then nothing but the echoes of clear chuckles.

He shook his head with a short grin and turned to follow his Captain.

Damn brat.

* * *

Haruto's chuckles faded into snorts as he released his _Shunpō_ over a rooftop, skidding to a halt in a rush of reiatsu and a cloud of dust. His shoulders shook in mirth as he took a deep breath and schooled his features, brown eyes glittering with amusement. Facing the direction he knew the _Shin'ō_ Academy lay in, he took off at a sedate pace; travelling from rooftop to rooftop with relative ease and light footsteps, he let his thoughts overtake him once again.

The Academy was not a place he was comfortable travelling to. He'd been there once with Tetsuzaemon- _Fukutaichou_ years ago, to collect some material he'd required for a research paper he'd written on _Kidō_ and the necessary reiatsu flow and pressure required to modulate their release- He'd been more nervous than a rabbit surrounded by a pack of dogs, but had resigned himself to shamefully hiding from his estranged friends and jumping at invisible shadows like a child.

 _Kidō_ had always been a fascinating subject to him, and his fixation on lightning (rather, his spiritual energy's general ease with lightning natured casting), had drawn him into further research on the topic as he progressed through his training. It had amused Komamura to no end: still he would sometimes hear his Captain chuckle about his student's obsession with his reading material, and Tetsuzaemon had simply shook his head and lamented at the creation of another _'goddamn book eatin' bastard.'_ : in Iba's defence, he _had_ been part of the Eleventh, and old habits did tend to die hard.

Of course, Haruto had made _sure_ to give as good as he got once he'd been able to.

It wasn't that the messy haired shinigami was particularly gifted. His intellect was sharp, but not sharp enough to match the geniuses that the Seireitei housed. But he was well aware of that fact- and the fact that in terms of raw power he would likely never match someone as accomplished as the Captain's.

Because he knew that it was not only _Bankai_ that made someone a leader capable of controlling a division of close to two hundred _death gods_. It was a cumulation of decades- _centuries_ \- of tactical and technical prowess and an awareness of politics and battle that he might never amass.

It would never stop him from trying, of course. What he lacked in power he'd already made up in tooth-grinding focus and practice, and as for knowledge: well, he devoured books and papers and anything he could get his hands on to find ways to improve upon himself and his skill. As of now, he was wholly average.

Absentmindedly, his right hand moved to down to wrap around _Seion,_ and he took in a breath as he felt his Zanpakuto's complete steadiness.

 _Tranquillity_ and _Patience,_ and suddenly a small smile crossed his features and he allowed himself to enjoy the breeze that rushed past his face and ears. He wouldn't be alive if it were not for his weapon's insistence on reigning in his impulse and wandering thoughts.

He spent more than necessary time in _Jinzen;_ the old warrior's steadiness had been a comfort to him for as long as he'd known: it was a bond that he treasured and held close to his heart. After all, no one could know you better than your own soul.

He was broken from his musing by the appearance of a set of red-tiled buildings that came into view in the distance.

Haruto took in the sight of the structure and breathed out heavily through his nose, wincing as flashes of unwavering, strong violet and bloody crimson cockiness flashed through his head- _Red Haired Renji and an accelerated class, lightning-quick sword skill_ _and cocky confidence and brash grins, and_ _ **Kuchiki**_ _Rukia and an unwavering determination in the face of failure, quick witted; and now_ _ **noble**_ _blood and iron will-_ before his grip around _Seion_ tightened once again, and he breathed in and moved forward.

_Tranquillity and Patience._

It was just a few documents. He'd just have to remain a little more alert than he'd normally be.

* * *

Rukia Kuchiki stood in front of her brother's chambers with a rigid back. Her surroundings were still largely unfamiliar despite the fact the adoption had been certified, and the quiet halls never failed to set her on edge.

Her interactions with the Kuchiki head had been formal and brief, stretched over the course of the past two years, and so _very, very awkward._

_'He's always so goddamn expressionless- terrifying!'_

Then she sighed deeply, clapped her cheeks to her face roughly; and drew aside the door.

"Nii- _Sama,_ you requested my presence?"

The man ahead of her was seated at a desk, back straight and gaze turned toward a set of documents in his hand. Upon hearing her voice steely eyes snapped forward and locked in to her own.

She swore they softened for a split second, but it could've just been her imagination.

' _He's Byakuya Kuchiki!'_ , she berated herself crossly. _'He doesn't_ _ **do**_ _emotion.'_

A soft baritone layered by iron snapped her from her thoughts, and she gulped minutely.

"Ah, Rukia- I've been expecting you,"

He gestured at the seat before him, and she sat promptly, breaking eye contact as she did so.

She kept her gaze focused on his neck, after that- his eyes were arguably the most intimidating thing about him.

_'And that's saying something.'_

"Report to me- how have you settled in these past few months?"

She cleared her throat,

"Well, Nii- _sama._ My room is very comfortable, and everyone has been hospitable."

They hadn't, and were _incredibly_ condescending, but she wasn't about to spit on his generosity.

Even though she still had no idea _why exactly_ this was happening.

"Good. And the trainer?"

"Exceptional. Kiyoshi- _shishou_ is demanding but I have made significant progress under him. He is second to none."

She ducked her head slightly,

"Thank you for allowing him to train me."

"It is of no consequence. You are a Kuchiki, and you will be trained as such."

His tone was curt, but there was a glancing softness in it that made her tightening shoulders loosen slightly.

A pause.

"I have been told you wish to visit the Academy one last time- you have already said your goodbye's."

She looked up at him once more, meeting his eyes, which were narrowed inquisitively. Suppressing the urge to duck her gaze again, she spoke.

"Yes. But I'd like to see if there's anything remaining in my old quarters there. I don't want to miss anything important. And,"

She blushed.

"The Academy housed me for years. It does not feel right to leave without saying thank you- if of course, you'd be alright with it!" The words tumbled out of her mouth quickly, and she wanted to shove her head outside the window and _scream._

It seemed she could not get through even one conversation before embarrassing herself.

His lips twitched, and she blushed harder.

"Very well. You may leave, but you shall return before dusk. It would not be proper to remain outdoors after curfew; especially as a trainee."

"Yes, Nii- _sama._ Thank you."

"Lastly,"

His gaze focused on her again, and she straightened.

"Your training elapses in a month. I have already looked through and examined your proficiency with Kidō and general studies. I deemed them satisfactory,"

Her eyebrows raised because _satisfactory_ was not a word that came easily from Byakuya Kuchiki's mouth.

"Kiyoshi has deemed you proficient. In two months time, you will be formally listed in the Thirteenth division as an unseated officer under Ukitake- _taichou_ and his lieutenant Kaien Shiba. You will respect his authority and follow his judgement- Ukitake- _taichou_ is a capable leader; Shiba is skilled and experienced. Learn under them and hone your skills further."

Her eyes widened.

She'd be a Shinigami in a _month?!_

She was barely ready- even _Renji_ was still in the Academy! They said they'd enter the Gotei 13 together; three souls of children in a dank alleyway in cold rags and damp hair-

_and Brown eyes flashed through her mind then; brown eyes and a bloody mouth and cackling howls and darkness and then a_ _**lack** _ _of presence and an emptiness in her soul and heart and death; Renji's shivering form and trembling eyes and her guilt for not being able to_ _**do anything-** _

Haruto.

Her heart clenched and she remembered the decades after the death of their friends; when Haruto and Renji and her had held each other close and protected themselves from all the hurt and pain; and the _bonds_ they formed.

Her _family._

Renji had been shocked when she told him of her adoption.

After Haruto's death he had stuck close by her, refusing to leave her side and **pushing** her when she failed to get into the accelerated classes, even when she'd nearly allowed herself to give up and let him race ahead of her. _'I made a promise,' he had growled when she had finally snapped and told him to just leave her behind and_ _ **go.**_ _'I ain't going to let you outta my sight, Rukia! Not ever! Not after_ _ **he**_ _told me-!' Then he'd broken off and just stared at her through blurry eyes and she ducked her head in shame._

_He hugged her, after. 'We're_ _**family** _ _, Rukia.'_

So, when the Kuchiki had brought up the adoption to her Renji had simply grinned through slightly pained eyes and told her to _take_ it. Then he'd placed a hand on her shocked head and said,

' _I'll catch up soon enough, Captain! You ain't leavin' me behind, don't doubt that!'_

That had left her speechless.

Until she kicked him in the shin, whacked him across the head and asked him where in the hell he got off behaving like a condescending older brother. Then they'd laughed together, and remembered better times when a part of them wasn't gone and buried, dead and never coming back.

Haruto had been a well of safety and energy and gentleness that bought them warmth and full bellies on cold nights for so very long.

That hole he left behind had never been filled. Never would be.

A clearing of the throat snapped her back to reality, and she blushed a bright red as she noted her brother's furrowed eyebrows and- _dare she say it? -_ concerned gaze examined her.

"Are you well? Do I need to call for our doctors?"

It was posed tonelessly, but there was an undercurrent of worry that lined his otherwise passive voice and she couldn't have blushed brighter if she wanted to.

"No! No, Nii- _Sama,_ it's alright. I was simply lost for words-!"

She leaned forward in a low bow, rising to her feet.

"Thank you for this opportunity. This is my dream, and I promise I won't let you down!"

Byakuya grunted, seemingly appeased, and rose to his own feet.

"As is expected of you as a Kuchiki. Very well," and he tilted his head to the door.

"I have business to attend to. You may leave."

She bowed slightly once again and backed away to the door, drawing it shut behind her, and let out a loud sigh, shoulders slumping tiredly.

' _Being a noble is a pain in the ass.'_

Nevertheless; she had things to do and rooms to clear-

_And training to finish- because she'd rather die than be left behind by that pineapple headed imbecile._

* * *

Sparks flew and steel ground against steel; Renji gritted his teeth and pushed, using the accumulated momentum to shove his opponent downward and _spin_ across his guard, sword raised in an arcing downward slash that would cleave the man's head from his shoulders.

He did not expect the _speed_ at which the hilt came across to guard against his blow, and he grimaced at the _unsatisfying clang_ of steel and narrowed black eyes that gazed up at him from a crouch, then realised he'd fucking overextended again. Cursing, he attempted to regain his balance on his forward leaning feet.

The leg that came crashing into his at a brutally efficient pace sent him sprawling to the ground in an undignified heap, and he stared balefully at the sword pointed at his throat; his opponent smirking softly, and tattooed visage contorted in an effort not to laugh.

"Fuck you, Hisagi- _senpai_ , you're sweating as bad as I am!"

"Still got you though, didn't I?"

And the sword retreated and was sheathed, and instead a calloused hand reached down to grasp his own. He took it and got to his feet with a groan.

"You've improved rapidly Renji. Still," The scarred visage of his smirking senior gazed at him with amusement.

"You don't think hard enough. Reign in those impulses, Abarai- you aren't winning anything if you don't draw your opponent out slowly. You act, but don't plan."

Hisagi scratched the back of his spiked trusses of hair;

"Still, it's more than enough to pass; you're good enough to win a seated position, if I'm being honest. Especially if you've managed to stop blowing yourself up when casting Kido like you _said_ you have."

Renji could feel the disbelief drip off of Hisagi's words and scowled.

"I _have,_ Hisagi- _senpai!_ A lot happened after you graduated," Renji eyed the scars that lined Shūhei's face and grinned when the man reached up and rubbed at them unconsciously.

"A _whole_ lot. Besides, you're a seated officer; I can't be expected to beat you _right now,"_

His _senpai_ grimaced and turned away, hand leaving his scars to rub at the back of his head.

"Yes, well. I've been having a rough time of it until recently. Tōsen- _taichou_ is a good man, and a better teacher."

Renji sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow. The sun shone down harshly upon the stone courtyard, and the hot breeze did nothing to alleviate the burn of his skin.

"I still have no idea what division to enter- "

Shūhei snorted and eyed him speculatively, calculating gaze roving up and down his torso, before zeroing in on his crossed hands and face.

"You'll do fine in the Eleventh. You've always chased strength-they're a perfect fit for you."

Renji frowned and rubbed at his chin, "The one with the scary Captain you'd told me about?"

The dark-haired man hummed in ascent, head turning to gaze at the edges of the roof that surrounded the space they were in. His gaze narrowed, and he let out a huff of air, shaking his head minutely.

Renji looked at him again in bewilderment.

"What happened, _Senpai?"_

"Nothing, nothing. Just thinking about the work I have left today."

He turned to Renji; lips turned upward; a sudden change that left the crimson haired man confused.

"Being a seated officer isn't all its cut out to be, Abarai. Then again," he gestured at Renji's form. "The Eleventh is notorious for their lazy paperwork."

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm- "

"Yes, yes. Do you not have class to get to?"

Renji blinked, then paled.

"Shit, Onabara is going to have my _head!"_

He scrambled backward, and turned to bolt toward the buildings of the Academy,

"I'll catch you up later, _Senpai._ We'll be fellow officers soon enough!"

Shūhei chuckled and raised a hand in farewell as the crimson-ponytailed man ran toward his doom, then lowered his arm and scowled at the rooftops.

"You coming down now, Hayakawa?"

The shadow on the roof jumped, then chuckled nervously, and the messy haired man stood in front of him in a rush of swirling dead leaves and his ozone reiatsu; Shūhei raised an eyebrow at his dishevelled appearance, neck turning slightly upward to gaze at his messy rat's nest of a head.

The man may have been slightly taller than him, but Shūhei's crossed arms and unimpressed stare was enough to make him chuckle and rub his head in close-eyed, sheepish embarrassment.

"Ah, Shūhei- _senpai_ ,how do you do this _fine_ morning? You look splendid!"

Shūhei simply shook his head in soft disbelief and gazed at half lidded eyes and tan skin with a growing mixture of fondness and mild exasperation.

"Want to tell me why exactly you've been spying on my spar with my _kohai_? For the last _half-an-hour?"_

He stressed out the last words and watched Hayakawa slump his shoulders and mutter,

"I've really got to work on my reiatsu suppression, damn it."

"That's not the _point_ , Hayakawa."

The man blinked and looked at Shūhei from under his half-closed lids. They made eye contact- Shūhei blinked.

_'Ah, shit.'_

A slow grin began to spread across Hayakawa's cheeks, white teeth glinting as he winked.

_Winked._

Hisagi sighed in inward resignation.

"Weelll- can you fault a _kohai_ for being just a little jealous that his _senpai_ was taken away from him? After all Shu- _san,_ you're _mine,_ aren't you? _"_ The man's grin had spread further across his face and he gazed at his tattooed visage with a serene, lilting gaze.

Shūhei raised his hand and let a soft _thwack_ ring across the courtyard as he tapped Hayakawa's head with unnecessary force.

"You're insufferable."

The man opposite him simply let his grin drop to a small smile; letting out in a soft, teasing lilt,

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Hisagi felt a grin spread across his features despite himself.

"Besides, how else could I get you into Matsumoto's pants?"

His grin dropped, and he tightened his grip on the _brat's_ head to the extreme.

"Oi! That hurts!"

Shūhei snorted in disbelief. The little bastard had gone through worse: Shiba made _sure_ of that.

"Then apologise."

"For what?! It's only the _truth,_ senpai! You're crushing _heavy- "_

The whack that followed startled the birds of the courtyard's only flowering tree, and his insufferable junior groaned from his new place on the cracked ground.

"You're lucky it's me, y'know _senpai_? A lesser man would've broken something."

"Well, a lesser man wouldn't have said that in the first place." He replied evenly.

"I'm _definitely_ taking that as a compliment!"

Shūhei huffed out in exasperated amusement.

"Of course you would," He said tonelessly, before reaching out his arm to the man on the ground.

"Oh, hush _senpai,_ I'm not a child that needs help getting up from a tiny fall,"

Shūhei jerked his arm back in surprise as a jolt of electricity passed through his hand from Hayakawa's outstretched fingers;

' _But he didn't- '_

Blinking in disbelief, he stared at the younger shinigami half-seated below him.

"You never told me you could use _Eishōhaki!"_

Hayakawa smiled mischievously at him before hoisting himself up and staring down at the tiny cracks on the tiles before looking back at his senior and winking at him conspiratorially.

"And you never told me you've been working on those arms so much- I didn't know you'd gotten this _strong_ _senpai!"_ The teasing glimmer in Hayakawa's eyes made Shūhei look down in embarrassment.

"Well, if you _must_ know, I've- "

"-been bulking up to catch Matsumoto's eye? Oh, I _know_ senpai, it's why you forewent the sleeves on your _shihakusho_ isn't- "

" _NO!_ The sleeves restrict movement and-! _"_ Shūhei's ears burned and he glared at his kohai with murderous intent. _He was_ _ **this**_ _close to snapping…_

"No? Then could it be-? _No. Hisagi-Senpai,_ you didn't tell me you had a thing for that red-head! A younger man? How _inappropriate~"_

That was it.

"Give me _one_ reason I shouldn't draw my sword on you, _kohai."_

He saw Hayakawa smile impishly.

"My unmatched intellect and dashing good looks?"

His hand turned to wrap around the hilt of his Zanpakutō.

Haruto paled immediately, and Hisagi felt a smug vindictiveness at still managing to elicit such a reaction from the third seat. He _never_ made threats, only promises- and Hayakawa had been on the tail end of those _promises_ long enough to understand when to stop.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry-?"

Not good enough. The _shink_ of metal sliding out of its confines made Hayakawa _scramble._

"No no! Hisagi senpai you can take it out on me later! I'm on errand for Komamura- _taichou_ and I just finished collecting these documents, see?"

Reaching for the pocket in his robes, he brandished a thick rolled band of papers and waved it around his head in desperation.

"Tōsen- _taichou_ had requested it, I swear-!"

Letting out a soft "tch!" at the mention of his own superior, Hisagi released the grip on his sword and stared at Hayakawa with a considering gaze.

"If I find out you've been lying to me, I'll ask Shiba- _Fukutaichou_ _ **and**_ Tetsuzaemon- _Fukutaichou_ to double your endurance training."

Brown eyes widened and Haruto straightened his back in sudden apprehension.

Oh? It seemed threats of retribution worked rather well against his usually unflappable junior.

"Hisagi-Senpai,"

Shūhei nearly snorted at the sudden seriousness in Hayakawa's gaze.

"I assure you I'm telling you the truth. So please, _please,"_ His hands clasped together and Shūhei Hisagi nearly _laughed_ at pleading brown eyes.

"Not Shiba-Fukutaichou- he's a goddamn _slave driver!_ "

The tattooed man snorted once again and folded his arms.

Hayakawa refused to break his gaze.

There was moment of silence as the hot breeze made its return, scalding his pale cheeks.

"Oh _alright,_ fine."

"Yes!"

"On the condition that you call me by my given title now."

"But _senpai~"_

"Very well; your next appointment with Shiba is next week, isn't it? Then- "

"No! No! I'm sorry Hisagi- _Fukutaichou!_ I apologise!"

Shūhei hummed in satisfaction at the admission.

He knew it wouldn't last very long, but still- having Hayakawa cede victory to him left a sense of accomplishment that rolled through his body.

The third seat was infamous to his circle for being an insufferably evasive tease, and Shūhei knew that not many bested the man in a battle of wit and words.

Though he would would admit, with however grudging fondness, that Hayakawa was an entirely reliableman underneath all his eccentricities. Very, very, _very_ deep down, maybe- but it was there.

He wouldn't deal with his nonsense otherwise.

He let loose yet another sigh- _being around Haruto tended to do that-_ and reached up to ruffle his _kohai's_ hair. Because like it or not, in the five years he'd been a seated officer in the eighth, Hayakawa had grown on him. Like a fungus he couldn't get rid of.

"Go on and get the hell out of here then, _brat."_

Hayakawa's eyebrows raised, and Shūhei grunted out a chuckle. With his high cheekbones and broad jaw, the man suddenly looked very much the part of an incredulous noble.

The idiot might've been called attractive if he wasn't such an _insufferable_ snot.

"Yes, yes- go on then, I won't tell Shiba about any of- "

"Hisagi- _senpai_?!"

Shūhei started at the echoed voice; it came from down the corridor behind him and was deep, but distinctly feminine and clear. Footsteps clattered down the hall as bright violet eyes sped their way toward him, and he let loose a smile (which was _usually_ hard won, if present company was subtracted from the equation), turning to face the newcomer as her shoulder length hair swayed in the hot breeze as she made her way to him.

Rukia- _Kuchiki-_ his mind added afterwords, had only been introduced to him after Renji had begged for his help- a story about a promise and ' _please Senpai she's super smart I swear!'_

Hisagi had never been good at denying requests made by good people; it was a softness that he relished in a world where it seemed violence was the only way forward- and he would never, on his watch, allow someone to be restricted by an institution's ineptitude.

_He knew intrinsically what it could do; when your heart and soul and body were crushed because an archaic old man sat behind a desk thought you **unworthy**._

So he'd spent some time away from his preparation for the finals- _he cursed the written papers to this day-_ and did his best to help her.

She was dedicated and quick witted, confrontational and a cunning fighter- she lacked the raw power her pineapple haired friend possessed, but she was _undeniably_ talented. The Academy council were a group of old _fools._

He respected her. She was cut from good cloth.

"What're you doing here!"

He relaxed as she exclaimed, mild shock and happiness edging through her otherwise- _forced-_ (he could tell) rigid gait. It seemed she was still getting used to the attitude of a noble. She'd been a Kuchiki for a couple of years now, he mused, and had only remained in the academy a few months longer than he had. In fact, while Renji still had a year left to go now- he'd heard that the thirteenth was getting a new unseated officer.

"Ah, Rukia. Or do I call you Kuchiki, now?" He smiled in amusement when she ducked her head in embarrassment.

"I'm only joking. As to what I was doing here- well, Renji begged me to spar with him this week; he keeps ranting on about how he has to _keep up,_ and not ' _fall behind!_ '"

He watched as she snorted, her short form rising in fond irritation.

"That idiot is _obsessed_ with the idea that we're leaving him behind- he's the one who made the accelerated class, not _me."_

"But you did train and study just as hard as they did in the end, didn't you?"

She blushed. "That's only because the dumbass introduced me to you- you helped me, _Senpai."_

He chuckled;

"I seem to have a lot of people calling me that these days."

Then he started suddenly- how could he have forgotten-

"Speaking of ungrateful kohai, let me introduce you to Ha- "he turned back.

And frowned.

There was no one there.

_Where…_

"Hisagi- _senpai?_ Is something the matter?"

"Ah… no, nothing at all. Never-mind, a slip of the tongue."

Strange.

"But tell me, what're you doing here anyway?"

And he turned to the girl again, watching as the perplexed expression on her face faded away as she began to talk to him, her rigidity slowly relaxing with every sentence. It seemed that she hadn't been around friends for a while.

Shūhei fell into easy conversation with her-he hadn't talked to this particular _Kohai_ in a long while, and he was determined to catch up.

He'd speak to Hayakawa about his manners later.

* * *

Haruto breathed heavily as he released his shunpō over the seventh division barracks, heaving in great breaths as he raced toward the empty Captain's quarters. Slapping down the rolled documents on Komamura's desk, he left immediately and slumped against the wall, eyes closed and breaths evening out slowly.

_Tranquillity and Patience._

That had been far too close for his liking.

 ** _Fuck_** , he was a coward.

First it had been Renji; but he'd been far too awestruck at his development since the last time he'd seen him to actually properly reign in his reiatsu completely- _dancing swords and lithe footwork and he was **proud**_ \- and Hisagi- _Fukutaichou_ had noticed.

He smiled at that; conversations with the even-headed man were a beautiful pastime, but he really needed to refrain from antagonising him for fear of violent retribution.

No matter _how_ much fun it was.

Then his short burst of amusement shattered, and he cursed himself once again for his inattentiveness; because he'd nearly _missed_ her signature appear, and he'd had to rush away and she'd _nearly seen him-_ it was enough to send a thrill of nauseous fear and _panicpanicpanic-_

No doubt Hisagi would have words for him later. But really, the thumping of his heart took precedence.

Logically speaking he knew that his charade wouldn't last long- they would cross paths eventually. He just wanted it to be on _his_ terms; when he was _stronger_. When he could bring himself to bow and _apologise and make up for everything he did so very, very wrong-_

' _Just another couple of years, that's all it'll take- maybe.'_

He knew he wasn't ready for Bankai just yet- Seion had told him once, quite firmly. And though the spirit's closed eyes frustrated Haruto at times- he had no idea what the old man was _thinking_ (He hated not knowing what people were thinking), He trusted him with his life.

He'd have to ask Komamura- _taichou_ for more books on _shikai_ control. And if he had nothing, there was always Aizen- _taichou._ The man was a bottomless depth of information and knowledge.

He paused for a second, before continuing on his way through the shade, bright sun flashing in his eyes as he grumbled softly.

Maybe Shiba- _Fukutaichou_ would beat it into him; but he'd made little progress over the past few months. _Shinkū_ was incredibly hard to control, and the fluctuation was still troubling him; _reiatsu control._

He usually prided himself on his control. Revelled in it, even. But for all his progress in the area; for all his training and _bleeding and sleepless nights and mind numbing days-_ those random moments of sudden spikes in his otherwise untouched- serene pool of energy would freeze his chest and pulse and pull and _interfere._

It was annoying and had been a hinderance for years.

But Haruto was nothing if not patient.

' _There will be_ _ **something**_ _._ _There always is._

After all, he had an ever-growing list of people he needed to protect _(no matter how hard he tried to prevent it.)_

_'Enough. There will be time for that later.'_

Sighing, he rubbed at his eyes as he walked through the corridors of the seated officer's barracks. He had things to put in order and supplies to pack.

Pausing, he took a fleeting moment to stretch, bones popping and tired mind sending bursts of- _sleep-_ through his body. But It could wait-night patrol wasn't never the most eventful, nor was it remotely thrilling, but he _always_ volunteered to head out when he had the chance.

He _knew_ how important patrol routes were

- _Dispassionate amber eyes and the soft, half-hearted glow of what he now knew to be kaidō-_

He shook his head and rubbed at his ribs.

Patrol was important.

Pushing away the guilt that flashed through his heart when he heard their voices- _deeper and more grown up and strong (not strong enough)-_ Haruto entered his quarters.

Patrol was _important._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Not much other than some more exposition. There'll be the patrol, next time- and maybe some actual battle, though I have yet to see how I'll approach it.
> 
> Thoughts on the characterisation? There's already a few ripples caused by Haruto's existence. Primarily in and around Renji right now; his impact on the characters around him.
> 
> Renji always struck me as a sort of endearingly honest and honourable: he'd never break a promise to a dying friend (someone he called brother) over a name (though he has been a little annoying at times). He just has a bit more drive to keep close to Rukia this time.
> 
> Also, Shūhei Hisagi, who's a fucking badass. I'm not really sure about his characterisation here, but he was Renji's upperclassman. And since he did lead them on that mission when they were freshmen, I took a little creative liberty and figured Renji would take any help he could get.
> 
> Even from scary punk-looking badass man.
> 
> Lastly, Haruto is a real sap isn't he, goddamn. Promise he'll lighten up (outwardly) soon enough.
> 
> Anyway, any recommendations or improvements I could make? Criticism is welcome.


	3. Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Extended Patrol sets forth for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapters are kinda whack sometimes y'know

Soul Society did not seem to possess set weather patterns. The night came in stark contrast to the day. -it was cool, and the wind that blew across the grounds of the Seireitei numbed even the most resilient of shinigami.

In the quiet breeze, a brown-haired man stood at attention in the middle of a dirt yard, resolutely ignoring the short barks that echoed from the captain's chambers in the distance.

Suke Hinata stood at a full five foot eight inches and had soft pale skin, a short button nose, and mild black eyes. All in all, he was a good-looking shinigami; or at least, that is what he convinced himself every time he looked at himself in the morning.

Another little titbit of information about Hinata. He absolutely _despised_ the cold. It set a deep ache in his bones, and his fingers and nose seemed to numb with the frigid air that accompanied the open space of the Seated officers' courtyard. The small scowl of discomfort that framed his otherwise handsome face was, therefore, not entirely unexpected. It was also the reason why his right hand rested on the hilt of his relatively standard-looking zanpakutō. He realised he often did this when he was agitated, but it was par for the course when it came to the very nature of the Shinigami corp of the Gotei 13.

The second division was even worse, but Hinata made an active effort to ignore everything about the terrifying assassination unit.

At the moment, however, he sighed as he smoothed back his neatly combed hair.

Behind him, the muted whispers of the greenies picked at his ears, and he resisted the urge to sigh even louder. Dealing with the new recruits in the afternoon had been a painstaking task in itself, and now he was going to be monitoring a whole gaggle of them on _extended patrol._ A whole litter of _five:_ this wasn't his area of expertise. While instructing a large group of newbies on the training grounds meant simple force of presence and imposing his charm and authority as kindly as he could, active extended patrol meant _hollows-_ and hollows meant he had to help keep the new-borns in formation. Not that he knew why the Captain had ordered them on active duty so _soon,_ a mere week after their induction to the ranks. But he did not question Komamura; he and his peers held the Helmeted figure with a near complete devotion, and in return he had yet to ever fail them knowingly. Indeed, the captain of the seventh division was near flawless in his squadron's eyes.

He had _earned_ that respect.

"Uh… Hinata- _san,_ what _exactly_ are we waiting for?"

He turned around to gaze at the woman who'd addressed him: her short pale grey hair rustled in the wind, black eyes gazing at him inquisitively. The soft lantern-glow illuminated her enough for him to identify the confused grimace on her face. He eyed the rest of her little friends and noted their general restlessness; it was troublesome, but Hinata supposed he could understand it- they'd been standing here for the past fifteen minutes and if they didn't move soon, they'd be behind schedule.

"Keep calm, Sakurai. We won't be here much longer; the squad leader is running late, he had to hand in a report to the Captain,"

He almost smelt the sudden disapproval in her gaze, but she moved back to the rest of her compatriots, letting loose a series of murmurs that was followed by grumbling that was just as soft.

She was a rule-stickler, then.

Once again, he resisted the overwhelming urge to drive his face into his palm. She was in for the time of her life.

' _Where even is the bastard, anyway?!'_

He was later than usual, and despite the fact that Hinata was _used_ to working with the man as the Fourth Seat _(why were such high ranking officers being assigned this in the first place!)_ the greenies _weren't,_ and that meant they were going to have a very _rude_ awakening.

" _Gah!"_

As if to prove his point, a series of soft shrieks and muted gasps interrupted his thoughts, and he finally let loose that sigh that had been accumulating behind his lips.

The squad was no longer huddled together, but had instead been seemingly scattered by a flickering, rumbling, grey-green reiatsu and a rush of wind.

Haruto Hayakawa stood before him with his messy black hair, serene smile and half lidded eyes, white gauntlets glinting in the soft yellow lamplight and shihakusho drawn over what seemed to be a green shirt, sleeves bunched up over his arms.

"That's new," Hinata drolled, pointing at the garment with masked amusement.

"What can I say, Hinata? I get _cold_ at night," Haruto replied with an embarrassed chuckle, before spinning first to his left and then to his right, drinking in the sight of the startled new recruits around him.

His soft smile was still fixed to his face, but Hinata caught the mischievous glint underneath his fellow officer's eyelids. He muttered a short prayer under his breath.

' _I hope they make it out of here okay.'_

"Well then, what do we have here? A whole _gaggle_ of greenies, hm, Hinata _?"_ He waved his hand once and never shifted from his position.

Hinata noted his new squad's sudden confused, bewildered stares at the newcomer as they scrambled together once again with a growing exasperation.

' _Okay, enough.'_

He cleared his throat, and received the immediate attention of the group, Sakurai at its helm. Her eyes demanded an explanation even as she stood to rigid attention (soon emulated by her compatriots). It was very clear that she had been deemed their de-facto leader, and Hinata knew she'd be one to look out for in the coming future. Three of the first ten seats were currently unoccupied, after all

But, as the Captain always said,

' _Potential is nothing but conjecture.'_

The rest had gone _un_ said; it was hard, driven determination that determined who you'd become. And the Seventh Division was _founded_ on those principles.

Only time would tell if these Shinigami could live up to those ideals.

"Recruits, this is the Seventh Division's third seat, Haruto Hayakawa."

There was a pause, the chirping of crickets cutting through the night. Then,

" _Him?!"_

It was a combination of two voices, and he eyed the guilty parties with a blank stare.

One of course was Akina Sakurai. The other was a stocky, broad-chested man with short-clipped blue-black hair, and Hinata hummed under his breath as he remembered his name.

Daisuke Iwasaki was another recruit to keep an eye on after all, and Hinata was good at that.

He didn't envy what they were about to go through, though: because Hayakawa's eyes had taken on an even brighter edge to them at that explosion, and that almost never ended well for those it was aimed at.

He'd spent a near decade dealing with the young man now young _, because he's not even a century old yet; Inuzuri would do that to a soul's growth rate, I suppose._

"Oh, what's this? You don't believe Hinata, kiddies? Well that's too bad, because we have _patrol_ to get to~"

Hinata blinked in surprise as Hayakawa brushed past the two even as their arms dropped, patting both on the head as he moved to join him in the front of the group; he was reminded that compared to most people the third seat was rather tall, and he simply ignored the irritated looks the recruits shot him as he walked past, settling beside Hinata with a hum.

He looked up at the man and asked softly,

"Must you _always_ do this, Haruto- _san?"_

Hayakawa gave him a teasing smile and a wink as he glanced down at him through the side of his eyes,

"It's just a bit of fun Suke, _relax!"_

Hinata hummed and waited until their recruits corrected their posture, now eyeing Hayakawa with mild trepidation, and in _certain_ cases, an ever-rising irritation.

Iwasaki stood beside Sakurai, and the remaining three- _Fujiwara, Abe, and Yamada, he noted with disinterest (they were fairly average, and therefore mildly boring)-_ circled the two in an almost respectful manner.

Hinata snuck a glance at his friend again and noted the now amused smile he wore. It seemed he'd noticed the same thing.

"Well, greenies, welcome to your first ever outing! It's usually rather dull, but today you have the absolute _pleasure_ of tagging alongside your vaulted superiors on an _extended_ _patrol_ , and I guarantee you it'll be an exciting experience." Hayakawa's smiler did not falter once as he delivered his news with a cutting, sarcastic edge that Hinata was unfortunately _far_ too used to, and he desperately resisted rubbing his eyes in frustration.

' _This is going to be a long night, isn't it?'_

Instead of voicing this, however, he picked up where his compatriot had halted, eyeing the recruits in the eye even as his taller counterpart scratched the back of his head in a sudden shift to blatant disinterest.

' _Why does he always do this?!'_

Still, he forged on bravely, and with a steely undertone that caught _all_ of their attention- Hayakawa glanced at him in amusement- he proceeded to establish his ground rules.

"You _all_ will remain in formation. I don't know how many of you know what an extended patrol is- "Here he raised a questioning eyebrow and received an almost unanimous shake of the head as a response.

Nodding, he spoke. "That's not surprising. The Seventh Division has taken charge of the Eastern Rukongai-now, while it is nearly _impossible_ to cover all its districts every night, we have established a system that allows us to encompass nearly all the districts within our vicinity with extensive scrutiny. This is accomplished over the course of our monthly routes. The extended patrol is undertaken by a group of seven individuals and is _always_ headed by two seated officers,"

He eyed the unseated officers with a sharp glare and watched with satisfaction as their backs straightened in nervous tension.

"I have no idea _why_ the Captain assigned us a group of _greenies,"_ and he could _feel_ Haruto's grin as the two in the front bristled in indignation.

"But," he acquiesced with a sigh, "he has never led us astray," and he made _sure_ not to break eye contact with the two he knew to be the strongest and most stubborn of the group. "We at the Seventh are _not_ like other divisions. Both Komamura- _taichou_ and I have told you this in our own time- and we _mean_ it. Most divisions with responsibilities in the Rukongai don't take their duties half as seriously as we do- we are the only division right now to _hold_ an extended patrol because most squadron patrols do not even stray beyond the 50th district. They do not wish to encounter the more dangerous conditions in the Outer regions of the Rukongai and to them, it is for good reason. _But to us,_ this does not suffice- for Duty is our highest calling: we live a life of whole-hearted passion and take our responsibilities as seriously as we would our personal lives." He paused and took in the chins that were now held high.

' _Works like a charm.'_

"So, when I say we keep in formation I _mean_ it. Hayakawa- _san_ will serve as the rear-guard, just as I will take point. _All_ of you will remain in a diamond-point formation between the two of us. I want Sakurai and Iwasaki on the right and left respectively. Fujiwara in the front, Abe at the back. Yamada, you'll take centre."

He watched as they scrambled to follow his orders but did not relax.

"This is strictly experience-training for the lot of you. If and _when,_ " He stressed on the word with audible strain,

"We encounter a Hollow or Hollow cluster; you will _wait_ for either Hayakawa or me to give you instruction. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Sir!"

Hinata grunted in approval.

"We'll be moving at moderate pace; I'm not sure of your individual endurance right now. Keep vigilant and do _not_ let your guard down once we move past the 50th. Now,"

He felt Hayakawa straighten and looked up to make eye contact.

He nodded once, smiling in soft approval.

"Move out!"

They _moved_ in blurs of black, reiatsu flaring briefly before humming as they settled into formation.

As he passed his compatriot to take his place in the lead, he heard the man whisper teasingly,

"For such a mild-mannered man you surecan be real _loud_ sometimes, Suke- _kun,_ "

Hinata flushed red.

"Oh, _shut up,_ Hayakawa."

Grumbling, he took to his position, Hayakawa's taunting chuckles still echoed from behind him.

Shaking his head, Suke let loose a fond grin; sometimes he wondered _how_ exactly Haruto Hayakawa was a seat higher than him.

* * *

Akina Sakurai graduated at the top of her class.

She had a pick of divisions; a veritable _buffet_ of them that had seen her potential and offered her seated positions.

She went for the one that offered her no such thing. It had nudged at her, pricking at her mind- she'd left the Academy in four years; no mean feat, and she was not the average new recruit.

The Seventh Division gave her no special consideration.

If Akina loved _anything,_ it was a _challenge:_ and the Division Seven had presented her with just that. There had been no leeway given to her, no offers of seated positions despite the three that remained empty. The Seventh believed in working from the ground up, and it was something she could appreciate; especially after meeting its Captain and his lieutenant.

They immediately struck her as almost indestructible; confident and stalwart when she'd been on the tour of the Divisions. She had been drawn toward their upturned Chins and strong gazes, as had Iwasaki- she'd seen the gleam in his eye.

The same gleam he'd had when he'd demanded they spar on their first Zanjutsu lecture-it was the beginning of a competitive friendship she wouldn't trade for the _world._

Then she'd seen the Third Seat, Haruto Hayakawa, and she'd just been _confused_.

He was tall, a dark green undershirt under his rumpled shihakusho and messy untamed hair, an almost bored, lazy expression that grated on her nerves. Then he'd spoken and she looked at Daisuke and they came to the same conclusion at the same time.

He was a joke.

He did not possess the presence that her other superiors possessed, and his attitude was nothing short of casual and dismissive. It was rather shameful, and she could not fathom _how_ he ranked higher than the straight-backed man ahead of her.

She knew his type, and in the short introduction (or _lack of introduction)_ he'd given them was enough for her to solidify an unflinching judgement of him.

He was like most of the fodder at the Academy: lazy, stupid, and blasé about the most important job _anyone_ could have; a throbbing sense of entitlement just because he had a little reiatsu to flare. He was an insult to everything she'd worked toward, and she _knew_ Daisuke felt the same. The way he'd glanced at her in stunned disbelief was enough to cement that.

And she knew Daisuke intrinsically; they'd had an unspoken camaraderie from the moment they'd set foot into Shin'ō Academy. The same goal, the same ambition- the same drive. _The drive to be great._ Nothing would stop them, and they'd picked Division Seven as their springboard to that glory.

She brushed her hand against the hilt of her Zanpakutō smugly,

' _Ketsueki Tora feels the same.'_

Soon, they'd crossed into the 56th district, bypassing the nearer districts that came under the jurisdiction of the other patrols that drew the longer ends of the stick, and already she could feel the oppressive presence of simple _decay_ wash over her. She was largely unfazed by her slowly depilated surroundings; the transition from coherently designed structures to ramshackle buildings and unclean streets, building, and patches of forest was familiar.

Inwardly, she scoffed at the look on Fujiwara's pudgy face in disdain.

_I grew up in places like this; it's just like a really shit homecoming.'_

And she really had; scrambling for meagre quantities of food until she'd realised that she was _different_ and found her purpose in the distant walls of the Seireitei. Different and _better_ than just a scummy dirt-poor girl begging for scraps of food and water while her mother wasted away on cheap alcohol with money that her _daughter_ had earned. Sakurai's fists tightened by her sides. The few moments her dear birth-giver had been lucid had been spent cursing at her absent father for _abandoning her._ She'd heard enough of the rants and raves and spittle flying at her face.

' _Never trust nobles, Akina- they'll take you in an' spit you out; no fuckin' hesitation! Y-yer lucky ya don't- your goddamn waste of a_ _ **father-**_ _I fuckin' saved yer worthless ass, you hear!'_

The Rukongai was just a bad memory, and she was _better_ than it now. Better than her mother and she'd end up better than her father too- whoever he was. And that was her goal, after all: to be a _Captain of the Gotei 13._

To be someone Great.

Huffing under her breath, she cursed softly, pointedly ignoring Yamada's surprised look at her.

She didn't like the goddamn Rukongai.

A loud call broke her from her thoughts; a dry, cutting, lilting voice that made her twitch.

"Hinata _,_ you're moving far too slowly for us to get _anywhere_ tonight."

The answer that came from in front was resigned, and she quivered with indignation on behalf of her _competent_ superior.

' _Why can he not just_ _ **shut up**_ _!'_

"Hayakawa- _san_ , ideally you'd be taking point, but for _some reason,_ the Captain said I would be. Now, _deal with it._ "

The reply that received came in the form of a long, drawn out sigh and a long-drawled,

"Oh _alright_. _"_

Why was he so _flippant?!_

Stealing a glance to her right to make sure Daisuke was still there- _mentally, because he could get distracted easily and Hinata-san had told them explicitly to remain on high alert-,_ Akina was relieved to see his silhouette flicker in her direction with a nod before returning to concentrate on the surroundings on his left.

She began to feel the chill set into her body. The night was cold, and she could hear the shivering breaths of her compatriots rise and fall; almost in tandem with her own. It had so far been an uneventful hour, and they'd been moving like shadows in the night, careful to avoid any lingering civilians- _they don't particularly enjoy our presence, Hinata-san had said with a downturn of the lips-_ and she could understand where they came from: Shinigami weren't the most benevolent of law enforcement, though she'd learned extensively about the political climate of the Seireitei once she'd had the chance. Most souls in the outer district, however, never _had_ that chance; they only saw what was thrust upon them and nothing else.

' _Though, I wouldn't put it past the Eleventh Division to start unnecessary brawls; they're a strange bunch, from what I've heard.'_

She hadn't been around long yet, but the rest of the Division Seven recruits had taken to assembling around Daisuke and her to gossip. She didn't particularly enjoy it, but it was free information, and she wouldn't pass that up for anything. Maybe a seated position, but well- she'd just have to climb her way up.

She grinned at the thought, brushing her silver hair back to her shoulders.

The wind blew, and they whipped past the 60th district, spotting no inconsistencies in the spiritual pressure in the surrounding area.

They hit the Seventieth District with little disturbance;

Then, of course, all hell broke loose.

* * *

Daisuke Iwasaki hated being second place. It was against his very upbringing to be anything other than the _best.,_ andhe'd never once failed to meet those standards: until he met Akina Sakurai, that is.

She'd thrown all his expectations out of the window and stomped on his high-born ideals in onespar. He'd decided then and there that she was most definitely worth sticking around.

So he did just that, and it hadn't led him astray thus far.

But Hayakawa, or whatever his name was, brought about a long-forgotten disdain he thought he'd buried underneath years of interacting with a lower-district peer. He hadn't liked what he'd seen of the man. -of course, this opinion would be open to change should the seated officer did something to warrant it, but Daisuke sincerely doubted that: and from he could tell, so did Akina. The man hadn't really put forward the most… _professional_ of impressions, and he could not fathom how the lackadaisical individual was a third seat.

His slight slouch, lazy eyes, and general air of nonchalance didn't help matters, and he was certain that his family would've looked upon him with nothing short of absolute disdain. The Iwasaki Clan may have only been minor nobles, but it failed to prevent them from behaving as pretentious as they deemed necessary. Now, he wasn't particularly comfortable with that, but he did feel justified in his observations; and habits that were forcibly drilled into you with all the intensity of a clan with larger-than-life aspirations weren't the _easiest_ to get rid of.

Sighing bitterly, Daisuke ran an errant finger through his hair, eyeing his partner's sudden glance at him and nodding once, almost imperceptibly.

_I'm focused and here, don't worry._

Watching her shoulders loosen and silver-moon hair swish back and forth in the wind as she looked ahead once again, Daisuke felt the smallest twitch of amusement. Akina sometimes behaved like an overbearing mother-hen, and he viewed it with a mixed sense of exasperation and fondness. In the end, he appreciated it more than resented it- he definitely did _not_ want to be on the receiving end of that temper.

As they moved forward, the shinigami eyed the ever-changing landscape of the lower districts with an air of pity; their party blurred past the ratty buildings, dirt paths and uneven patches of vegetation with little preamble. The night air was cool against in his face, and he found his thoughts slipping into a soft lull of deteriorating complacency.

' _What exactly is so difficult about this? We've crossed seventy districts and there's still- "_

"Halt!"

He jerked to a stop, kicking up dirt and mud in his hurry, and he saw his compatriots look up in stunned silence as well. In front of them, fourth seat Hinata had paused, back rigid and hand raised in a fist. His left hand traced the hilt of his zanpakutō in a white knuckled grip, and Daisuke felt himself tense as he watched the shadows dance across his superior's eyes, pale moonlight casting glimmering flickers of white across his face.

When he spoke again, Hinata's voice was curt.

"Hayakawa- _san_?"

There was a sigh from behind them, and Daisuke saw the dark-haired man run his hand through his hair in a short, exasperated sigh.

_Really? Even now, he-!_

"Five. It's a grouping, and that's _weird,_ Hinata. The energy they're giving off is muddled as well. We approach with extensive caution."

_Wait, what? I didn't even-!_

Hayakawa cracked his neck once, and rolled his shoulders with a hum, glancing across all of them and settling eyes briefly on the two very obvious leaders of their little group.

"Unfortunately kiddies, it seems like you'll be havin' a bit of field work fun~" he grinned and jerked his head toward the brown-haired man ahead of them, and Daisuke bristled indignantly at the blatant, uncaring condescension in his voice.

"Follow Serious- _san_ over there, he'll get you to your positions, isn't that right?"

He watched as Hinata jerked his head forward once in curt approval and made eye-contact with them.

"You all have had hollow experience,"

And Daisuke was suddenly assaulted by a flare of heavy, suffocating _dread,_ and he gasped involuntarily. His fellow unseated officers fared little better, their eyes wide and breaths coming quickly.

" _You've all had hollow experience,"_ he stressed, "But none of you have face more than one at a time." A distant roar shattered the silence over the clearing, and echoes of short screams pierced his ears; he tensed, _ready to move already goddamn it-_

"There are five individual signatures; uncommon even in the Rukongai but not unheard of," Hinata breathed in once. "And definitely something you'll come across in missions in the Living World."

Daisuke could feel himself thrum with barely constrained adrenaline.

"Keep in formation behind me and wait for my orders. Like your third seat said," he added sharply, "We approach with _caution._ Do you understand me?"

The unanimous chorus of "Yes, Sir!" a sentiment he echoed with force, relaxed his superior's shoulders considerably and he smiled tightly, then turned to his compatriot.

"Haruto- _san...?"_

The response was a soft, "Maa, Suke- _kun,_ I'm on it," before a rush of wind and ozone brushed across his face, and Hayakawa disappeared in a swift shunpō.

He heard Akina grumble under her breath; a rant that stressed on the term _unprofessional_ with significant bite. Despite himself, he felt a grin quirk the edges of his mouth.

Then he filed away their inevitable venting session to the back of his mind and let the task at hand consume him.

"All right then, Greenies! Let's kill some hollows."

_Fuck yes._

Daisuke allowed the adrenaline to take over and forced the anticipation of battle to take precedence in the forefront of his mind, blood pumping as they rushed forward toward the howls and shrieks. Racing through the trees and shrubs, the gradual build of his thrumming heart allowed a grin to slip across his face- the last time he'd seen a hollow he'd dispatched it with brutal efficiency alongside Akina, and this time wouldn't be any different. He looked at the determined looks on the rest of his squad and nodded approvingly.

The screams and howls soon grew closer and they burst upwards, over the clearing and onto the rooftops of a small village that lay partly destroyed; the distant booms echoing through the night. He raised his head from the scurrying civilians to look at the beasts before him.

They were five, ugly, monstrous things; faces contorted into bone-grins of twisted glee and bloody amusement, and he watched the large, misshapen gorilla-like arms of the largest beast bring a struggling form to its maw before consuming it with a loud groan of satisfaction.

_**MORE** _

The voice was layered, echoing and haunting and high and low all at the same time, a rasping brokenness to it that made his gut curl in revulsion and the need to _fight and eradicate every speck of these things-_

"Fujiwara, Abe, you're on _Hebi,_ " Hinata cut through his thoughts with a curt order, and he saw his superior point to a long, slithering _thing_ that burst through a hut, sending debris spilling across the mud and a fresh batch of terrified screams tore through the night. "Keep close, stay in close contact. I want you guys to fight _smart._ We don't need casualties, understood?!"

They nodded quickly, taking the warning for what it was- _don't die, new blood; this isn't school anymore-_ and moved in twin blurs of black, the slithering of metal leaving its sheathe burning his ears.

"Sakurai, Iwasaki,"

His hand curled around his blade, and he grinned savagely at his partner, receiving a a sharp toothed snarl of a smile in return.

_Hell yes._

"You have the most experience," He eyed them through the corner of his eye, and Daisuke heard another, closer, **boom** and a splitting howl and cackle,

_Come on, we don't have the time for this!_

"I'm putting you both on the big one," and he gestured- not to the curled-horned, grinning freak with the gorilla-arms-, but toward a hulking, armoured monstrosity with deep ridges of white cutting through its spine, its near-blank mask catching the moon's gleam as it lumbered through the streets, silent in its disturbed perusal of a good meal.

Beside him, Sakurai reared her head in confusion.

"But sir, what about the remaining threats? surely Daisuke and I could-!"

"This is not up for discussion, shinigami! You have your orders," and he watched brown eyes bore into black, and Akina wilted under the intensity of his glare.

"Follow them!"

Another broken scream, this time disturbingly close, and Daisuke reared his head to watch his assignment's blank mask stretch into a disturbingly _wide, open grinning mouth, long tongue slithering outward_ \- in its clawed fingers, a small figure sobbed,

" _Help-!"_

Then it was gone, and Daisuke was unable to suppress his raging reiatsu, flaring a deep blue. The hollow's neck snapped up in recognition, and locked eyes with him.

Its grin seemed to stretch further, and its black-yellow eyes never left his own, a long, lashing tongue reached out to slather across broken white teeth.

" _Go!"_

He snarled, barely acknowledging Sakurai's presence beside him, and unsheathed his zanpakutō with a near silent swish, willing his being into his blade.

Together they moved _,_ Akina by their side and the distant, fading echo of _"Yamada, you're with me"_ ringing through their ears.

* * *

Haruto hummed in anticipation as he watched the recruits speed away to their various assignments, Hinata's sharp orders bringing an amused grin to his face. The officer spoke loudly for someone so short. He hadn't always been like that, and it had taken him some time to coax out his comrade's more authoritative side. Granted, it'd primarily been through irritating the man to a point of boiling rage and steaming anger that hadn't faded for _days-_ and even then, Haruto had been wary of approaching Hinata for months after. (Apparently constant reminders of his infatuation with Unohana- _taichou_ was a rather loaded topic; Haruto discovered that the hard way).

He did like Suke- _kun;_ the man may have had a couple of decades on him, but Haruto couldn't help but compare him to an underclassman. For all his barking orders and calm exterior, Hinata had a blistering, blind loyalty that was as endearing as it was naive. And if that didn't say something of the man's mindset and value system, he didn't know what did.

Hinata needed someone to keep him trusting the right people, and Haruto assigned himself that role with little complaint. The fourth seat was easy to mould and manipulate- therefore, also easy to dispose of if the situation called for it- _(because military politics were still politics no matter how much Haruto hated it)_ and he would much rather that happen to someone like Jirōbō: he hated that man more than he did Ōmaeda, and that was saying something.

The crashes of breaking wood and high-pitched, strangled screaming brought Haruto back to reality, and he watched Hinata send the two most interesting recruits to fight a large, lanky, hulking creature with a questionable grin, its black on yellow orbs widening in manic glee.

His chest throbbed, and he grimaced, bringing a hand up to grip at his shihakusho.

' _Always at the most inopportune times.'_

With a determined exhale, he loosened the hold on his front and ignored the pain, acknowledging the sudden pulse of reiatsu Hinata sent him; eyes locking with his for a brief second before he rushed away, another recruit in tow- Yamaguchi, or something of the sort.

' _Whatever,'_ he shrugged and took stock of the situation spread below him.

The village was unsalvageable, he could tell. Its barely cognisant structure had been torn apart and scattered, the ground blackened, and soil unearthed as souls screamed and fled from the monstrosities that besieged them.

Haruto rubbed his fingers across his eyes in suppressed frustration. He _hated_ this the most. Why the goddamn Seireitei refused to acknowledge the misery of the outer districts, he'd never understand. Even his own mentor was hesitant to address the issue; it was the only problem Haruto had with the man who saved his life and gave him a chance of achieving something souls like him could have only _dreamt_ of. Komamura was brilliant, and Haruto loved him like he would a grandfather, but the wolf-man remained unwilling to challenge the authority of Central 46.

In that sense, Aizen- _taichou_ had been more than willing to accommodate his arguments on the matter, and Haruto relished in his sporadic interactions with the Captain of the Fifth, when they would discuss the underlying issues with the structure of Soul Society. Of course, they were merely discussions, but it gave Haruto hope.

_That there was someone who was willing to accept that their order had become so stale._

There was no one else he would voice the opinions to; for all that he resented the more rigid rules of the Seireitei, Haruto would never play traitor to the organisation that for all intents and purposes, saved his life.

_Or after-life, but who's taking notes?_

Despite Haruto's personal distaste with the ideal, it was undeniable that change came from within, and most often from the shadows: Aizen had said that often, and Haruto had spoken to him enough to know that he was undeniably a _genius._ Aizen- _taichou_ was smart; almost scarily so, and for all that he enjoyed the captain's company, he couldn't help but tread carefully, because something screamed _caution,_ and if being a shinigami taught anyone anything, it was _trust your gut._

 _She_ had taught him that, after all.

Shaking his head, Haruto turned his attention to the rooftops below his branched perch, and with a burst of energy landed on the shaky bamboo roof in a short squat. Hinata and the recruits were engaged with three, and the flares of reiatsu let him know that they were _alright, and not dying._

With another satisfied hum, he turned his attention to the remaining hollows and carefully considered the two that worked in _almost_ tandem with each other, oblivious to the sudden eruption of battle around them. They were near identical; diamond shaped masks, long, quick-moving bodies and ridged armour that resembled the hollow Hinata was engaged with-

_They're not anything special, but-_

A sick, twisted feeling of dark, screaming reiatsu burst through his gut, and his chest panged, and suddenly they _stopped_ , heads halted in their pursuit of the unfortunate villagers below them.

And they turned to face him, black eyes wide and wondering.

' _What the fuck-?'_

Then he _moved,_ instinct turning him to the side in a burst of shunpō, and not a moment too soon; the rickety homestead he stood upon caved inward as a disfigured fist punched through the roof and a snarling, half-insane visage glared at him through the dust and ruins.

A resounding _boom_ echoed behind him, and he turned to find the second staring at his rigid visage, head turned curiously.

Really, what the fuck?!

_**You smell… good.** _

"Excuse me-? "

It lashed at him and he cursed, dodging to the side with little grace.

No hesitation, he scolded himself, and gripped Seion and pulled; suddenly the disbelief and fear and confusion of the fact that they _sensed him-even though his reiatsu was suppressed-_ disappeared and he breathed easy and calm, heartbeat slowing to an even beat, a comfort in his eardrums.

He wasted no time in lashing at the chink in the hollow's shoulder, making contact and cutting through in a shower of brackish blood and a howl of pain, before cursing.

_Not deep enough._

The hollow turned, and regarded him with a snarl, and raised its fist, bone extending and whipping outward in a wayward slash, and Haruto danced backward as its edges lashed against the corners of his face and elbow.

_Behind, Haruto._

He heard the deep, lilting voice of his Zanpakutō spirit and ducked underneath the bone-whip, twirling to the right and inches away from a long, bone-white, clawed hand that ripped at his robes.

_I haven't heard from you in a while, Seion._

_They are strong and work together. You will need my aid for this._

_You know best._

His blade thrummed in approval.

_Jump._

He grunted and obeyed, a flash of coiling white slipping underneath his feet in a lashing grip. Using a burst of shunpō, he flashed upward with a heavy exhale of air, slipping by the second fishing claw that whipped close to his eye.

_**He's a tricky one, brother- not like the other weak Shinigami we found the last time- he seems fun, fun, fun!** _

Haruto blinked in confusion.

_The last time? But there's been no indication of twin hollows-_

_**Why the confusion, Shinigami?** _

He looked downward to find the twin visages of the diamond masked hollows staring at him in thinly veiled amusement, their bloodlust peaking at him through the eyes. - it seemed they'd spoken together. These two were _intelligent._ But that meant- he glanced back in exasperation. Trust Hinata to saddle him with the fucking _ringleader._

_Well-_

"Maa, hollow- _san,_ I was just wondering how you two twins managed to make such large brutes listen to you with such ease~"

 _ **He's figured it out, brother!**_ The hollow on his right cackled in echoed, shrieking laughter; and he could _swear_ he could feel a tinkle of satisfaction spread through their muddy energies.

 _ **That's enough, brother- he smells rather**_ **strong; more so than the last one. We should not waste time: we must** _ **consume**_ **if we are to survive.** The hollow on the left opened its maw, a long black tongue, wet with spittle and flickers of blue lashed through the air.

 _**But, brother that's no fun, you know that! Besides, if the big boys in Hueco Mundo want to make us stronger, why not just let us eat other hollows? It's not like there's a** _ **shortage** _**of them!** _

Drowning out the whines of the second twin, Haruto filed away that information to analyse later. For now…

_They're identical, Seion._

_That does not matter, now does it? They will be dead within the next few minutes._

_For a being so calm, you sure are bloodthirsty._

Seion hummed in amusement.

Shaking his head and raising his hand, he cleared his throat, Haruto smiled softly and pointed his finger at the two quarrelling beasts below him.

"Hey, Hollow friends~ You should really pay attention to me, I'm beginning to feel just a _tad_ insulted."

He cocked his head and closed his eyes, smile never falling.

_**Why you-!** _

"Mmm, Hado #4. _Byakurai._ "

He said it with a practiced nonchalance, a sing song of words that he let loose with a brilliant smile at his adversaries.

_It seems even the smart Hollows are idiots._

From his index finger, a brilliant crackling blue glow expanded and grew to tremendous proportions; his Reiryoku hummed in approval as it tasting lightning and he obliged it further- _might as well take out one when their guard was down_ ; ( _how much power could he put in before it blew up in his face?)._ It burst forward in a thrumming ray of crackling-blue white energy, cackling with chaotic, roiling electric power and arcing toward the twin on the left-

_The smarter one, therefore the larger threat-_

A blur of motion, and suddenly his Hadō met with cracking bone and a howl of pain before he expected.

Haruto blinked in confusion.

_Sibling…devotion?_

How odd.

The second hollow- the whiny, childish one- fell forward, the smoking hole in its head buying enough time for its twin to move far enough to escape with only a gaping hole in its shoulder. Its arm was nowhere to be seen-

_**SHINIGAMI TRASH! How dare you-!** _

But Haruto was already next to him, Seion singing in the wind as he slashed forward with brutal efficiency, and the Hollow's remaining arm fell away in a burst of reishi and black blood. He met with the its gurgling shriek of pain and its widened black on yellow eyes, ignoring that strange pulsing in his chest as he did so.

"You know," he said as he perched on the remains of its shoulder and slapped away its bite with a flick of his blade,

_**Curse-!** _

"For a smart one, Hollow- _san_ , you were rather dumb- or unlucky, really. If you'd met a bunch of unseated officers, you may have edged out a victory. Turns out," he sighed, and beat aside the next lunge with an energy coated fist, leaping back to stand in the air and dipping away from the animalistic lunges of the beast before him.

"You met a group with _seated officers_ on it~"

He stopped suddenly as the pressure of dread around grew heavy, and his chest _pulsed,_ and his breath quickened, before he gripped Seion tighter and he felt them even out.

_What was that?_

The Hollow howled in rage and burst forward in a flash of speed, ridges on the spine extending to lash at him in a frenzied whirlwind of bladed fury, black pupils wide and tongue out, spittle splattered across a mask coated with the brackish blood of its- brother.

_**I'LL KILL YOU!** _

_Aren't Hollow's supposed to have no emotions-?_

_To your right-!_

He grunted as a whip made contact with his face and he flew downward, straightening in the air and leaping off a half-broken building as the Hollow crashed into the ground. He could taste the pooling blood in his mouth and spat, crimson falling to the ground below him.

_You underestimated it; it seems._

_Hmm, I never knew they could_ _**feel** _ _this much._

_You live and you learn, Haruto._

He snorted as the Hollow turned to face him from the dirt, dust framing its bloodied, armless features and whipping whips that now protruded from its back, and he could see the glint of crimson on one of its ends _._

 _You know,_ he quipped as he leaned back to dodge an extended whip that would've taken away part of his face, _we need to identify those weird pulses of pain in my chest at some point._

_All in due time._

_You_ always _say that._

He only received a small tinkling laugh and _dodge_ from his zanpakutō before he sped out of the way of the Hollow, its torso flashing over where he once stood.

_Okay, that's enough. I need to look out for the kiddies or Hinata'll have my head._

Seion hummed.

_This beast is rather strong to have pushed you this far- it is not even a Menos. I find it rather strange,_

_We can think about that later. Besides, the only reason I could handle this alone is because they were so distracted; two opposing personalities that cared far too much about the other. It could've dodged the byakurai, at least partially- the dead twin reacted for little reason._

_Hollows are not the most orthodox of beasts, I suppose._

_But they're_ supposed _to be_.

A guttural roar shook the ground, echoing across the village and followed by echoing shrieks of the Hollows already in combat.

_**I'LL END YOU- YASHI!** _

_Now it isn't even making sense._

He could feel Seion's amusement at that.

It _flew,_ faster than it ever did before, whips cracked and whirling in a desperate final bid to _kill,_ and Haruto sighed and _shifted_ with a burst of ozone once again- into a boned leg.

He went barrelling into the air, head ringing and chest wheezing.

"Okay, fuck this."

_Will you be using the release, then?_

He didn't the miss the layered anticipation under his Spirit's serene overtone.

_No, I've just been being a dumbass._

Seion made his displeasure known with a dissatisfied grumble, but said nothing else.

Haruto groaned and straightened, knocked grip on his chokutō never loosening. Sighing, he placed a single finger on its edge and ran down its length, closing his eyes with a huff.

"Hado #11: _Tsuzuri Raiden."_

Chirping yellow burst forth into his blade, and the hadō cackled. Seion chuckled in satisfaction.

"Ah, enough of this now, Hollow- _san._ "

_I don't think it hears you, Haruto._

_The theatrics are important, Seion,_ he chided.

The Hollow shrieked, cracking howls and near-mad agony, and he met its charge with his cackling blade, now cutting away the whips as they zoomed toward him in uncoordinated frenzies of frantic intent and animalistic rage.

Whipping across one, then another with all the grace of a seated officer, he turned closer into striking range, the remains of its whips attempting to lash at him but finding no purchase. With a howl of frustration and no semblance of the intelligence it once possessed, the hollow lunged, mask first, teeth gnashing for his head, its bleeding stumps reaching for him to no avail.

It was almost _too_ easy to step aside and plunge his blade into the base of its head. The beast let loose a soft gurgle, and he willed his Reiryoku into the hadō.

The screeching electricity cracked through the armour across its body in seconds, and with one last, ear-splitting, heart-rending howl, the hollow fell; an echoing, haunting whisper washing past his ears.

" _Hiyashi."_

Oh.

"Fuck _."_

A sudden sorrowful hum from his blade seemed to announce its agreement.

Haruto ran a bloody hand through his hair, and flicked his sword once, the lightning fading as his hadō ebbed.

He was suddenly very tired.

Why did _he_ have to get the sentimental one?

"I hope my glasses aren't crushed."

He heard Seion laugh and let loose a smile of his own.

' _Now all I have to do is make sure the kiddies- '_

His thoughts were interrupted by a very, very human shriek that echoed through the night, muffled by the roars of hollows in combat.

Haruto's head whipped toward the way he'd come, and he finally realised just how _far away_ the hollow had dragged him from the rest of the battle.

he could still see it anyway.

In the ground lay the near-still form of a man, shattered soil beneath him, and hulking behemoth looming over him with a sick, twisted grin.

Not fifteen feet away lay the bruised body of a female. He recognised the silver glint of the hair, though.

He groaned.

"Damnit, I thought they were supposed to be _good._ "

Chances were, he wouldn't make it in time.

But he left with an echoing rumble of shunpō anyway.

* * *

It had been going so well: they had taken the Hollow in a burst of shunpō and teamwork borne out of years of training together and a partnership that extended beyond simple communication. Daisuke had been ruthless, sporadic and choppy in his attacks- like a jagged knife, all serrated edges and little form- a vast contrast to the rigid style he had entered the academy with. She of course, had a style that suited him perfectly. An order to the chaos, she moved with purpose; sharp and precise and deadly, striking with the gaze of a predator and the grace of the beast her zanpakutō embodied.

They covered each other's flaws perfectly.

That is, of course, until they didn't.

Hollows, whilst creatures of base-impulse and veered to the base principles of action-creation and the search for sustenance, typically possess the ability to think. It is dangerous, because while they often elect not resort to speech, the fact remains that they _can_ if they so choose to; a fact that has led many a shinigami to their demise.

It nearly took them to theirs.

They were talented recruits; once in a decade shinigami inductees that would definitely rise to take seated positions in the Gotei 13. But most talented shinigami face death before the rest. The primary reason? Arrogance and Hubris, two particular vices that Akina Sakurai and Daisuke Iwasaki had thus far failed to recognise.

Her mistake came first. Lulled into a false sense of security and lacking the need to release her zanpakutō, Sakurai moved to cover and compliment Iwasaki as he rushed in cutting swaths of flesh away from the Hollow's thick hide and manoeuvring past the thick spines on its arms. She swooped in at the interval, deftly careening past its sweeping arms and systematically breaking down the bone-like armour that encompassed its torso. The hollow was big, bigger than the few they had faced in their short tenure as shinigami, but not powerful enough for them to release- _all it would take was a little time and fun,_ and she sent a cocky smirk at her partner as she flipped over a sweep and he back-pedalled away from bone blades that cut through nothing. She never saw the arm behind her.

She saw Daisuke's widening eyes far too late.

The claws closed around her in a second, and she let out a surprised huff of air, and her eyes snapped upwards to meet white and black and yellow.

_**Caught you, little Shinigami~** _

_Shitshitshit-!_

She thought quickly and on her feet- _something quick, instant-!_

Her hands lit up red.

"Hadō #33-!"

The rushing of air choked her, and she never finished before - _pain-_ the hollow slammed her into the ground, and blood flew from her mouth and her vision went white, a high-pitched keening in her ears.

_**PREDICTABLE~** _

It cackled as it lumbered over toward her, and she couldn't move her _arm_ ; she tried, and the resultant burn of pain nearly made her black out. Her chest was on fire, and she _had gotten complacent._

Daisuke's mistake had come soon after; as he rushed in headfirst, sword brandished and eyes wide with fear and rage.

"Akina!"

_No, he's going to get himself killed-!_

She couldn't see properly; her vision was still shaky- but the blur of black behind the monstrosity moving toward her was unmistakable.

_You're wide open, Daisuke!_

She wanted to scream and yell and curse, but she _couldn't because her lungs were on fire and she could barely fucking breathe-_

Then his voice called out and for a moment, a brief moment, hope bound her tight.

" _Sever, Hagane-!"_

_**No, little shinigami~** _

She heard, more than saw his breathing cut off- dark slithering shapes erupted from the hollow's back, coiling and writhing and moving and wrapped around his torso and crushed him, then rose and flung him down to the ground like he was yesterday's trash _._

And she saw it grin and move toward him as she lay forgotten in the dirt.

 _No, no no no please please_ _**please** _

" _-suke"_ It was a rasp, a croak and even then, her lungs burned and she couldn't-!

No. No NO.

"DAISUKE!"

It was a wet screech, and she fell into a fit of rasping coughs, ribs broken and mouth filling with blood.

 _Please, please,_ _**please!** _

The hollow paused, its back twisting and its sick black eyes and twisted grin. Then it turned, and it moved, step by step by step, until it was towering over her partner's broken form and its grasping claws clasping his body; she heard the broken moan echo from his throat and her heart clenched.

Then she felt the tears, running hot down her cheeks, burning a scalding line across her face, and she clenched her eyes shut.

' _I hate you! I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you- I'LL KiLL-!'_

A soft squelch broke her from her thoughts, and her dark eyes snapped upward in muted terror.

But Daisuke was still alive, held in rapidly loosening claws and his torso close to free falling to the ground below.

On the hollow's back crouched a tall figure, ripped shihakusho splattered with dark liquid and a glimpse of messy raven hair that flashed in her dimming vision.

She could not tear her gaze away from cold eyes, the light of the moon casting eery glows around his face. That single moment lasted an eternity to her: an image that would carve itself into her memory for her lifetime- she was certain.

When he spoke, his voice was cold and blank, and she _shivered._

"Really, you kids need to be more careful; Suke- _kun_ would be _very_ angry if you were dead _."_

His eyes did not turn to face her; remained fixed on the hollow, its eyes wide, zanpakutō through its neck.

"Maa, Hollow- _san,_ you should really have been a little more careful when choosing your targets. These kids are annoying, but we at the Seventh don't leave them to die, _even if they are reckless idiots."_

She flinched at the venom he placed into the last sentence, his voice still even and near monotone.

"But well, since we're here already, I'll spare you the lecture- I'm actually rather surprised you're not _gone_ yet."

The hollow managed only a broken gurgle in response.

The shinigami - _he a real death god -this is everything_ _ **they ever wanted to be**_ _-_ sighed then, placing his finger against the back of the Hollow's armoured head and spoke for the final time, a sharp grin lighting up his face

"Your friends were a lot more fun to play with, hollow- _san_ ~"

A blue light lit up his pointed index finger, and his eyes were almost terrifyingly blank.

"Hado #4: _Byakurai_."

The monster shattered in an explosion of broken white and bright, burning blue.

Her vision blanked then, black and nothingness that took her for a brief, near minuscule moment.

Then Daisuke was next to her and soft hands were on her stomach and a voice, gentle and soft and so _different_ to the one she'd grown accustomed to spoke,

"Hey, kiddo. I'm really terrible at kaidō: that's more of a Fourth division thing, but I'll do what I can."

And soft energy caressed at her and she _fixed,_ bones snapping back into place and arm straightening ever so slowly and she could breathe again, lungs pumping in air and copper fading from her tongue and _thank god she was alive-_

Daisuke!

She moved to sit up, but a firm hand prevented her from shifting her body.

"Get off- Daisuke! _Please,_ I-!"

"He'll live," the voice was still gentle, near soothing; a soft lilting tone that brought her an eerie calm and evened her panicked breaths.

"Now, look at me."

She blinked, gaze focusing after what seemed like an eternity, and found herself staring into the visage of the man she'd disliked and written off as-

_God, I'm an idiot._

His half-lidded eyes were tight, and the soft green glow that lit up his face emphasised the crows feet underneath his lids. Still, a soft grin graced his features and he huffed when he looked at her.

"Good. You're back. Now, you think you can sit up without keeling over?"

Nodding shakily, she groaned and moved her spine and torso up, taking in the crushed, displaced earth and broken huts around her. The sky tasted like _dread,_ and she blinked wearily.

"Your friend is still alive. How're you at healing?"

"Daisuke's better," she choked out softly, "But I'm not incompetent."

"Good," he sighed, then lifted from the crouch he was in and stretched lazily, arms popping and back cracking. "You can pick up where I left off," A hand reached out to grab her own, and the rough material that encompassed his palm- _he wore white gauntlets-_ contrasted with the callouses on his fingertips and she rose to her feet unsteadily, turning to face her partner.

He looked pale, blood splattered over torn robes and too-pale flesh stretched across the abdomen. Cuts littered his stomach and face, but it was clear he'd received some treatment- the sounds she'd heard earlier had painted a much darker picture.

An amused chuckle broke out behind her.

"Maa, I've healed the worst of his wounds, silver- _chan,_ but he may still require your firm touch~"

She froze and turned, her face turning red.

Hayakawa stared down at her with a Cheshire grin on his face, half-lidded eyes glinting with subtle amusement.

"I-I'm not- _excuse me?!I"_

" _Oh?_ It seems I've touched upon something secret!" He gasped, palm flying to cover his mouth and finger pointing between the two of them. "Don't tell me-you and Reckless- _kun_ are an item?! Well, the Academy must've _certainly been-_ "

"NO!" Akina shrieked, her face turning an interesting shade of puce. "W-we're _partners-_ he's my best friend, _senpai- "_

_What did I just say?_

The taller man started in surprise, one hand moving to the back of his head to scratch at his hair awkwardly; grin still teasing and lilting, "Senpai? Maa, I appreciate the title Silver- _chan,_ stoking the ego-but _why_?"

She blinked at him, cheeks red, then nodded once firmly. "You saved us from near certain death- it is only right that I treat you with the appropriate amount of respect!"

 _And a complete overhaul of what she_ _**thought** _ _he was because he was nothing short of breath-taking then; cold eyes and regal indifference and disregard for the beast before him-_

"Uh… right. Well, call me Hayakawa-I only did what was expected. Just," He looked at her carefully, and she noted with some confusion that suddenly all humour had left his eyes, and the orbs that stared at her were hard and flinty. She felt her spine straighten almost imperceptibly at his gaze, entrancing and all-encompassing as it was- it pulled at her, and she nearly lost herself in entirely _too wise_ eyes.

"You have potential; but if you really want to protect your friends," at this he jerked his head toward Daisuke's still form, "Beat the arrogance out of yourself. You'll never get anywhere thinking you're top of the food chain, hm?"

She winced at the reprimand, head ducking slightly.

Maa, don't be embarrassed, though!" His eyes curled close and she started as he grinned disarmingly at her.

"You've got time- just remember that there's _always_ someone stronger than you out there, _Always._ "

Then his eyes left hers and she shook her head in muted confusion.

_Where did that even come from?_

She opened her mouth to reply, but he beat her to the punch, his eyes flicking over to the west and mouth turning upward slightly.

"Right! Now, stay here. Hinata is approaching with the others- they're okay, by the way," he added, looking entirely too amused at her suddenly concerned face. "Take care of grumpy- _kun_ over there and wake him up. I'll get them over as quickly as I can; this has been _far_ too eventful for my liking."

Then he turned and disappeared in a faint whisper of ozone.

She blinked at the abruptness of the departure, before shaking her head and turning to her unconscious partner, hands already lighting up pale green.

Daisuke groaned and mumbled incoherently, and she grinned at his antics.

She would have _words_ with him about recklessness and complete _idiocy_ when he woke up.

And thank her superiors for their aid later- maybe ask for their help too- what she'd seen, what _he_ had said-

_There's always someone stronger than you out there._

Who better to learn from the person who told her that himself?

* * *

Haruto sighed as he brought up the rear; the squad moved slowly and sluggishly, reiatsu low and fleeting. It had been a hard-fought battle, from what Hinata had told him, and he didn't envy the recruits- no matter how intense _his_ first experience had been.

He rubbed at his eyes as they reached the familiar gates of the Seireitei, the guard letting them through with little hesitation.

"Ah, take them to Division Four right now, would you Suke- _kun?_ And," he eyed his compatriots form with mild concern. Hinata had taken a beating after trying to cover for his subordinate.

_Oh the things we have to do to ensure our juniors have valuable field experience._

He grunted in amusement. "Get yourself checked out as well- you look dead on your feet."

At this, Hinata nodded tiredly, beckoning to the rest of the squad; they moved toward him, Iwasaki tottering past Haruto- whispering a soft thanks as he did so.

He shook his head in mild bemusement. Soul Society produced some strange folk.

_But then again, most Shinigami worth anything are rather strange._

"What about you, sir?"

The question came from the silver-haired girl, who eyed his bloody robes and cut face with mild concern.

"Maa, don't worry about that- it's easy to take care of. Besides," he glanced slyly at Hinata's suddenly rigid form. They locked eyes, and he could almost _hear_ the pleading from the other man.

But what was the harm in a little fun once in a while?

"Besides, Suke- _kun_ would certainly appreciate some alone time with a certain someone, isn't that right, Suke- _kun~_ "

Sakurai's face blushed beet red as the scream of "HARUTO!" Echoed through the streets.

But he was already gone, chuckling as he crossed the rooftops and finally landed in the grounds of the Seventh Division, feet sore and head pounding in exertion.

_Home._

The sun was beginning to rise, but he had the day off, as was the custom for the extended patrol- besides, _Hinata_ had to write the report this time. It wasn't his responsibility.

He made his way to his quarters, closing the screen behind him and collapsing onto his bedding, sword still attached to his side. Lazily, he placed a hand up to his chest and winced as it pulsed pale green, the hairline fractures caused by the Hollow's knee fixing themselves- _slowly, because he was tired and exhausted-_ but the relief made him sigh in contentment.

_What a day, huh?_

A rumbling chuckle echoed through his mind in response, and he sighed in contentment.

Soon enough, his eyelids closed shut and the world turned dark, the comforting pulse of his zanpakutō lulling him to sleep.

* * *

_Upon the surface of an endless ocean, a figure sits, legs folded. The sky is grey and clouds rumble; the smell of ozone sits heavy in the air. It is almost always like this, and the spirit revels in the feeling of a brewing storm._

_He hums in contentment, eyes closed and short clipped grey hair rustling in an ever-present wind._

_Change will come soon enough; on the coattails of some interesting catalyst._

' _And with it,' the man smiles in amusement, 'So will the challenge we seek.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A few dabs for personal plot, and a couple of OC's formally introduced to give the Seventh some additional depth. They probably won't be too important, but they'll be around. Also, a glimpse at Seion and Haruto's capabilities as shinigami- still no release, and he may have come off as a little OP in this, but let's face it- he's a high ranking officer and this was a bunch of ground level hollows- not the most challenging of battles for a shinigami of his or Hinata's station. Besides, I have some interesting ideas when it comes to Haruto's interactions with kidō and I'm interested to see what I can do with it.
> 
> As always, any constructive criticism/ recommendations are always welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
